Legends: Neo Genisis
by ScarQueen
Summary: Some things change, some things never will. All in all, I have to say, I never had quite as much bad luck as I did until he screwed everything up. COMPLETED! Additional author's note added! Please read, if possible. I look forward to hearing from y'all.
1. The Present

Hello all! Wow, my first story! Please R&R, I'd really like to know if any way to improve my writing. Um...yeah, terrified as hell putting up my stuff on here, I've worked on this story for some time, it's pretty long. It gets slow in some parts and starts out slow, but hepefully it's entertaining and picks up the pace. I don't really have any expectations yet, I just want to reactions (other than my own). Um a few things people are picky about. I feelI should mention: this story goes into religion some, and thereis some content people might be offended by. At which pointI'd like to mention that you are reading fan fiction about a game set inhell and...well...like theDaVinci Code this is a work of FICTION.(Probably not the best example but the only thingI could thing of...) That and there are a lot of cross overs, a couple of origional characters, and um...well there's Dante and Vergil...hopefully it ties together nicely.

Setting: two years after DMC 1, Seven years after The Bouncer, a year after SH4 and BloodRayne 2. (; oh geez) In a nameless city by the coast somewhere...

Quick note:Idon't own DMC or it's franchise-only the stuff that comes outta my head, namely the story and OC's. So credit were it goes, yay for DMC games. Um...aside from that...story rated M for action, course language, booze and cigs (though I don't endorse either), torture, pain, suffering, suggestive adultish themes, and creepy sadistic cults with vampire hench men. (; here's hopingI covered everything thing...)

Whew, thanks for taking the time to read this, enjoy!

**The Present **

"She's all yours boss," the young buck said warily. He was sporting a black eye and held a cigarette in a shaking hand. He nodded his head towards the perp in the other room.

The girl was sitting in the other room, patiently waiting. He could see her through the one way mirror, was puffing on a cancer stick. It was her fifth one that night. The glaring small over head light made her skin look wan and unhealthy, highlighting the dark bags under her yellow eyes. Her black hair was short, shaggy and spiked, grown longer in the front to frame her face, only one eye visible behind a sheet of bangs. She claimed her name was Lauren Star, but that was nearly impossible to prove as she had no criminal file to cross reference with and no identifying credentials on her. It was impossible to believe, but she had no file at all, none within the city's data banks and an even wider search had yielded little. It was as if she didn't exist, a living ghost in the technical world. Where such people even possible in this modern age?

Detective Brant was to interview the girl-hrm, one could hardly call her a _girl_. She had left that neighborhood several shirt sizes ago. She'd been picked up by a police cruiser while walking downtown on the pretense of illegal prostitution. What had started as bad cop crap ended with five men down and another seven in the ER and the arrested woman in the next room. The news reporters were already swarming the station ready to get the latest scoop on the developing story. His superiors where trying to hush the idea of wide spread corruption on the city's PD and they were doing a horrible job of it too.

Brant himself would've never believed it if he hadn't seen her with his own eyes. She _was_ a knock out, and dressed to kill, as if it were Halloween and not for money. Brant privately hoped the men in the hospital were there for quite a while. He came from a long line of honorable and distinguished police officers, and planned on ending his career the way he started it, as a strait arrow. Brant was a man bound by his scriptures, never once had he partaken of any shady dealings, a rarity in the growing corruption that polluted the buracracy of the city government.

No doubt, his experience in dealing with homicide perps and their victims alike gave him an edge in a case like this. Most likely this was the reason he'd been chosen to interview the woman. Violence barely fazed him any more, and considering the photos taken of the men in the ER, the woman was well versed in handing it out. In either case, she was currently handcuffed to the metal table, both hand and feet. It was already eleven and he had a feeling it was going to be another long night. Clearing his throat, Brant entered the room.

"Good evening, Ms. Star," he took his seat at the table. The metal chair made a horrific scrapping sound as he pulled it back. "My name is Detective Brant." He set the small file down on the table and opened it. The young woman watched him with a bored stare. He looked up at her from the pile of papers with in his folder, might as well start with the basics, was she high or insane?Was there any factor that could contribute to her being out of her goddamning mind and almost inhumanly strong? She'd broken a grown man's jaw with her bare hands. For his sake, he hoped so.

"Do you understand why you're here?" The girl snorted.

"Because I popped your men a couple," she replied. She ground out the cigarette butt in the ashtray and reached for another from the crumpled pack that lay on the metal table.

"You did more than that, from the sound of it," he said patiently. He had a feeling he could rule out illegal drugs. She seemed lucid enough.

"Not my fault they couldn't keep their filthy hands to themselves," she said coolly. And that ruled out insanity, not that there had been much support for that theory to begin with.

"Yes, I'd like to hear your side of the story," Brant shifted. "It's procedure. If your story checks out we have situation that needs attention here. However, before we begin I'm required to ask you if you understand your rights," Brant loosened his tie and leaned back.

"Psssh. Yeah I know my rights," the girl waved her hand carelessly. "Freedom till death or maiming. So, I actually get to say something?" She started to light her cig.

"Yes, it's procedure. Are you sure you don't want a lawyer present?"

"So this is like, going to be used in court?" She still hadn't been able to light her cig yet. The handcuffs wouldn't allow her to do it. Brant leaned over the table and lit it for her, using his own lighter. He wondered how she'd gotten the previous five lit…. The stupid young buck had had direct orders to stay out of the room. Brant made a note of it on his waiting notepad.

"Perhaps. Are you sure you understand your rights?" he asked her annoyed. Kids these days, no respect.

"No problma, man," she replied. She sucked in and the tip of the cigarette glowed orange. "So, where do I start?" She leaned back and regarded the detective before her. Brant felt uneasy in her gaze for a moment. He pushed the discomfort away.

"The beginning if you please," he replied. He set a tape recorder in the center of the table and flicked it on.

"Hell, you want the beginning? That's a long story. I hope you have more tapes with you," the woman shifted slightly in her chair and cleared her throat. She uncrossed and re-cross her black and white striped thigh highs. The leather mini skirt rode up a little, showing the straps that held up the tights. Hell, her combat boots alone nearly rose to the base of her knees. Brant quickly shifted his attention back to her face. She looked up at the light, as if pondering.

"Well, it all started when I met Virgil about three or four years ago." Her voice was raspy as she spoke. As if considering things unseen she sucked on her cigarette again, always looking at the overhead light. Brant waited for a moment before he interrupted.

"Pardon?" Brant asked. The girl looked at him annoyed.

"Don't interrupt," she stared at him, her gold eyes boring into Brant's hazel ones. "It's not polite. In any case," she flashed him a smile, it lit up her face, "there _is_ a point to it all." Was she on drugs, Brant wondered. Perhaps he shouldn't have dismissed the possibility so soon.

"Miss Star I need to know about the events of tonight, not your life story."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm telling you exactly what you need to know, the events that led up to tonight," she eyed him, irritated. "Quite interrupting." Brant eyed the woman.

"As you wish, however, if this is a wild goose chase, you can expect the full penalty from the law, accompanied with a psychiatric evaluation Miss Star," Brant told her. He eyed the clock on the wall. Ten minutes had passed; it was going to be a long night alright.

"Whatever. Anyways, as I was saying it all started when I met Virgil Sparda, three or four years ago…I was walking home that night."


	2. Vergil's story2 or 3 years ago

**2 or 3 years ago-Vergil's Story**

The hole was open. A steady flow of light and water lit the dark dank bowels of the underworld…finally after searching for a way to the surface for so long. That fool Mundus…he had seriously thought he would win against a son of Sparda? Vergil's head hurt…hadn't Dante won? Wasn't Vergil there to help him? But Trish couldn't have possibly been there then she hadn't even been born…

Vergil's head swam in a confusion of hazy half remembered memories and a face of a demoness he would rather not remember…nightmares floated on his cranial surface. Dante…he had seen Dante…with Trish? Where were they? Had they escaped? Where was Dante? Did he know what was coming? The demoness had known, had held Vergil till he healed and led him through the underworld, an infant in knowledge, had shown him to…..Master-(?) had he once called someone other than himself master of himself?……Mundus. She had shown him to Mundus. Where had his demoness gone? Mundus…what had he said after that? Vergil saw Dante's face…he was saying something…Vergil remembered… Dante said something about not expecting to see him in that place…what place was that?

Forget Mundus, Vergil briefly closed his eyes willing the dizziness to fade, find Dante. The moron needs to know. The Scion of Balance was coming. Something even worse than Mundus or Arkum...had he really called Mundus 'master'? Dante had to know…he was a son of Sparda and Sparda was the one who had originally put this play into motion…both himself and Dante would be needed to take care of this…as much as Vergil hated to admit it, he couldn't do this alone…at least not all of it.

With a final push of will, Vergil pulled himself out from the demon realm and into the human world. He lay on the muddy ground for a moment in a daze. Everything looked so different. So sickenly normal…covered with trash and pollution. It was nothing compared to majestic beauty of the halls of the Underworld…Vergil allowed himself one shudder before forcing himself to his feet. He felt something on his face, his head, falling softly everywhere. Vergil looked up into the false brightness of the city's night sky. Rain. It was rain.

"Son of Sparda," a voice hissed. Vergil had his sword out and ready. He no longer showed pravado when provoked. Hell had been a rough school of hard knocks for twenty two years. Vergil looked up. Sitting on an iron beam of a half built building was a…half-demon? No not a real one…a construct, like Trish had been. Vergil pushed his confusion away. The bird woman jumped down and landed several feet away in the mud. She studied him.

"You're not Dante," she said surprised. Vergil looked at her. She was a red head, her eyes were too green and her skin was tan. She had an accent. Nothing on her smelled of Mundus, yet she was as soulless as Trish had been. Who was she?

"And you are?" Vergil asked her. His first coherent, spoken words in the last seventeen years in the mortal realm, wasted on a construct. … … …

"Does it really matter? I know about you. _You're_ supposed to be dead," She said. Vergil narrowed his eyes at her. So she was an enemy. He knew how to deal with enemies.

"Then you die first," Vergil replied. He lunged. She was slow much too slow. His sword cut into her face several times, and he buried his fist into her stomach. She grunted but didn't give up her ground. She was tough; he had to give her that. She slammed a fist into his face, taking him by surprise. Careful son of Sparda, you're underestimating her. Vergil lashed out again, but by then she was gone. Vergil looked up, she was flying in devil trigger form. He dodged as she threw several daggers at him. She was expecting that and dived towards him, lashing out with both swords.

He wasn't expecting _that_. She got lucky. She threw Vergil up against a pile of steel beams. His own sword soon became embedded three feet left of his head. Vergil suppressed another shudder with iron will. He was more fatigued from the barrier crossing than he had realized. Otherwise _the bird_ would be laying in pieces in the mud by now.

Vergil fought the urge to simply fall asleep right then and there. Might as well, he couldn't be killed by a _construct_; he was a son of Sparda. Just one thing to check…then he'd slaughter this pig. He wiggled the numb fingers on his left hand, the feeling still hadn't returned to them yet. The Amerhurst, were was it? Vergil felt a moment's panic when he realized it was gone…he looked to the construct as she advanced.

"Well, what's this?" she asked. Her foot rest on it, not crushing it, it couldn't be crushed even if she tried to…Vergil said nothing. Across the muddy clearing they both heard something. He felt the pit of his stomach bottom out, though he'd admit that to no one. Had he been found out already? Impossible. He'd been so careful… Simultaneously, they both glanced up, momentarily distracted from the matter at hand. It was…a human? What was a human doing in a construction site this time at night?

"I didn't expect you of all people to have a partner, Vergil," the construct looked at Vergil with distain, _sneering_ at him. Vergil was confident that if he was fully healed that he would have ripped her face off by now for an insult like that. He was a general of the armies of hell, and she a mere construct was sneering at him.

"A _human_ partner none the less," the construct continued. "How disappointing, especially from what I heard. Amazing really, a Sparda depending on a human." Vergil looked past the construct to the human. She was pretty, the way humans could be when they looked fragile, like a porcelain doll ready to shatter at the first gentle breeze. She looked scared, but that particular emotion didn't manifest itself in the manner it did on most humans. Sure she was standing stock still like a deer in the headlights, but that wasn't it.

It was her eyes, her eyes betrayed her emotions. Human weaknesses… She looked like the demoness had…Vergil winced, that was a bad memory.

"I suppose she dies first then," the construct turned to the human, "don't move dark general, you'll have your turn soon enough." Then she was gone. Vergil could sense her above, flying in devil form, simply to take care of a mere human. She had to be the lamest construct he'd ever seen. She was poorly trained to say the least.

He looked at the human girl. She cocked her head to the left and looked about ready to say something, her red lips slightly parted. Her eyes, they looked so pure and innocent almost pitying, even masked in fear as they were. Something rare indeed. He hadn't seen eyes like that in a while. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time…the construct was going to kill her, and it would be on his head. Vergil gritted his teeth.

The construct was back. It was strangling the girl, holding her above its head by the neck. Vergil summoned what he had left. He had been in the human world for a grand total of two minutes, he would not allow a human blood to be shed on his conscious so early in the game. Not when he could so easily prevent it, letting this kind of slaughter go unchecked would be worse than an insult. A mere construct getting the better of him…it was degrading. Plenty of human bloodshed would come latter…but not right now, not when it wasn't on _his_ terms in any case. This was going to have to be fast.

Vergil wrenched his sword from the steel beams, nearly taken back by the weightlessness of it. He crossed the clearing in a second, picking up the amerhurst along the way. His sword slammed into the constructs lower back. She screamed in pain and surprise. It was like music to Vergil's ears. He threw her from the sword, casually, into the far brick wall across the street, taking out part of the wall in the process. He saw her slump to the ground and cease moving, the details becoming more sharp and etched in the dark rainy night. He was healing. That was good. Now for the human.

He looked down at her, she was sputtering and coughing, but alive. Something about her wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something wasn't right. Then she looked up. Splotches of the construct's blood were splattered across her face. It highlighted the unusual color of her gold eyes, her hair looked like midnight itself, and her small skirt had hitched too far up, showing smooth flawless white skin. He realized that this human reminded him far more of the demoness than he had previously thought…how was that possible?

A terrified human with a demon's countenance…and she _was_ terrified. Shocked beyond horror really, but deep in their depths, there was something…calculating, cold, and _unaffected_. It was unsettling, and for the briefest of moments, Vergil considered simply killing her himself. In any case, her eyes would be the death of her someday, they gave far too much away. IT was in her aura too, human mostly, but there were traces of a demon influences…interesting…

Vergil shook his head. What was he thinking? Why waste the effort it would take to kill her? Was _that_ really worth staining his steel over? Humans were weak, impeded by their fears, desires, and other petty concerns. Fear, what a useless emotion. Simple emotions like that made her weak, just like all the other humans. She may have been a step up from most humans, but she was still a weak useless cow ready for the slaughter when you got right down to it.

She was looking at him with something akin to terror written on her face, something he was all too familiar with. After a moment's hesitation-enough of a hesitation for him to wonder again-and she was on her feet and running. She never looked back. Vergil watched her leave the construction sight, safe from the construct. He squeezed the amerhurst, a small yellow jewel studded gem similar to the one his mother had given him years ago. It's purpose however, was as varied and unique as Vergil's own amulet had been. It was beginning to react, glowing with an unearthly yellow light.

How was that possible? He hadn't given it enough of his own aura to awaken it. He looked up, but the girl was turning the corner, still running at full speed. She ran fast for a human. Vergil shook his head. There was no possible way she was the one he was looking for. The odds of that kind of coincidence were…phenomenal to say the least. Then again everything about tonight was phenomenal in itself.

Vergil looked down, thinking. Where the girl had fallen, there was a black bag. She must have left it behind…he picked it up on a curious whim. A white piece of paper fluttered from where it was tucked into the folds of the bag. Vergil picked that up as well. It was a demon. It was _the_ demon, the _undemon_…the girl had been here because she knew? She _knew_. Hadn't she? More evidence that supported the Amerhurst's early reaction. Vergil looked for the girl but knew even as he did that she was long gone already. He crushed the paper in his hand and shouldered the pack, ready to leave the construction sight. It was high time to head home…if his home still existed in the mortal world…tomorrow the real work would begin.


	3. Sloppy Joe

**Scrawled on a Wall Somewhere in Silent Hill**

_Through this fog they come along_

_Dark creatures singing a terrible song_

_The rest of the bar just laughed at him_

_Only I felt my hope grow dim_

_They found him dead the very next day_

"_No more stories from him," I heard them say_

_We blamed bad luck for his fate_

_Only I felt terror so great_

(Hometown, SH3)

**Sloppy Joe's The Next Day **

The next day was a real pisser. For starters I was out of cigarettes and I was late for work and I had another head ache. I was damned if I was going drink any of Tiffany's tea again.

My landlord, Mr. Cage was kind enough to remind me that rent was due in two days and the additional cost of getting my front door lock changed at three in the morning was going to be in the mix. Not like I hadn't been in a hurry to get to work. Heaven forbid Mr. Cage not get his monthly five hundred on the dime while he sat on his white saggy ass. Nothing ticks me off more than Cage. The guy's a slimeball.

Sloppy Joe's is a dirty run down café honky-tonk that seriously needs some breath mints and a face lift. The place has gone to hell and the clientele is your typical tourist trap crap. Yet I really cann't complain, it pays the bills, and that's why I work there. Hell, that's the _only_ reason I work there. I was twenty minutes late and the boss was rearing to bust my chops by the time I walked in the front door.

At Sloppy Joe's all the employees are required to wear those cutsie little outfits you see at Micky D's and Perkins. Yeah right. Like I'm going to wear a miniskirt and prance around like somebody's French maid. I was wearing a men's white business shirt, a black tie, with a pair of jeans and my trusty combat boots. I even applied the eyeliner extra thick and rechipped the new layer of black paint on my nails. Boss Joe just loves it when I do that.

"You're late," Boss Joe barked. I shrugged and made my half assed apology attempt. The boss just shook his head and told me to get to work. Here's the clincher, I'm good and Boss Joe knows it. It would hurt the business and take him too much time to replace me. That's why I can get away with not wearing the standard get up and being late for work, with in reason though. And for the most part, I don't abuse my privileges.

The day took a turn for the worse at exactly eleven sixteen. Right then somebody walked into Joe's that made me drop two orders of BLTs, a side of fries, and a malt. It was the guy from last night. The sword in the construction sight. Damn, what was _he_ doing here? How had he found me?

This time he was dressed in the blue trench he had been wearing last night, a dark blue collar shirt with a black undershirt that definitely showed off his finer features, and a pair of black pants that were tucked into the boots he was wearing. Hmph. For a guy who scared the living hell out of me, he wasn't that bad looking. I could relate to his style.

His eyes were like lazers, as he surveyed Joe's. I think he had the attention of every female in the restaurant the minute he stepped through the doors. I literally watched all the heads turn as he roamed about. Disgusting. _Yummy, _but disgusting all the same. The only thing I cared to remember about him was that god awful sword being plunged into Harpie Bitch and the warm spray of hot liquid against my lips.

"Oooohhh would you look at that eye candy," Jessica, a coworker of mine, crooned into my ear. Jessica was a nice girl with no head for relationships. Her last boyfriend had put her in the ER over a drunken dispute or something. She bounced back from it, but she's still a bimbo when it came to picking her boyfriends.

"Can you help me clean this up?" I asked her, snapping her out of her daydream. I think she was beginning to drool a little. I drew her attention down to the lettuce, tomato, and mayo floating around in the moat of chocolate malt.

"Maybe you could cover my area while I'm cleaning this up?" I asked her. A brilliant idea if I do say so myself. Wait till knife man sites down, and then avoid him like the plague. Hell, I should just sic Jessica on him and take her area over. I didn't mind taking the bar, easy work. No trouncing around helping the annoying families either. In retrospect, I was an idiot.

It was just my luck that he decided to sit at the bar. God…damn…him. I thought I'd be rid of him, but apparently it wasn't going to be that easy. Now what? I could practically feel those eyes burning a hole in my back. Of course there was only one reason he was here, wasn't there? There was no way this was coincidental. I swear to god, some days you're the windshield and some days you're the bug.

"Hey," I greeted him. "What it'll be?"

"I'll have another cup of coffee," he said. Oh, his voice was smooth, and it flowed. I found myself instinctively liking the sound of his voice. Damn hormones. I had wanted so much to hate him too.

"Black?" queried I.

"Decaf," he disagreed. I had him pegged for caffeine addict. Not quite the vicious killer this morning, was he? Maybe he just needed a cup of joe to get the juices flowing. I thumped another mug down in front of him. What was he going to do? Pop a cap in me in the middle of the day at a family dinner?

"Anything else?" I asked him.

"Your name's Lauren Rose, correct?" He asked casually. I stared at him. Hopefully my face showed a look of mild interest. I could feel my heart beating in the soles of my feet. I glared at him when he didn't continue to speak. I really don't like strangers using my name. I nodded curtly.

"It's _Lor_," I corrected him gruffly. "Whadda ya want?" _That_ sounded lady like.

"I have your backpack," he said, ignoring my tone, "from last night." He took a drink from his cup, watching me over the rim, all cool like. If I wasn't working buddy, you'd be wearing your coffee.

"How did you find me?" I snapped, leaning back and crossing my arms. Etiquette isn't one of my finer points. He took a pink thing from an inside breast pocket and threw it onto the counter.

"I believe that was in your bag," he said. "You may call me Vergil, if you wish." I picked up my hello kitty wallet. Yep, it was as empty. Definitely my wallet.

"You went through my bag?" I asked annoyed. He just stared at me. He had a poker face that was for sure.

"I didn't leave it behind, Lauren," he said curtly, "and since you didn't give me an address before _leaving_ last night, I looked for a clue." I snorted. Now there was some careful wording.

"Right," I said annoyed. "So where exactly _is_ my bag? You don't seem to have it with you, Mr. Good Samaritan." Like what was I suppose to do? Stop and exchange insurance information with the Harpy Bitch?

"I don't have it with me right now," he said with a slight nod of the head, "I was just walking by when I saw you through the window. I could go and get it for you later if you can agree to dinner." Yeah, sure, that was believable, if you were from the moon. And the catch? He was probably a hired knife sent by the Order to kill me, or worse... I rubbed the building pressure at the center of my forehead.

"All that just to give me my bag back? Especially after what I saw last night? Your parents must be proud of you." I sighed, "I need a time and a place." Why are the insane ones cute? Why did he ask me to meet him for dinner if he was just a knife? He held his coffee mug up for a moment considering. I stared at him flatly in return. I bet my poker face sucked in comparison.

"Carnival Café, any time, you come alone," he finally said. His eyes were ice cold. Well about damn time he dropped the act. "I'll do the same of course." What exactly did he think _I_ was going to do to him? Still, it unnerved me that he wanted me to come alone.

"Eight-thirty tonight," I said after considering for a few moments. I knew the Carnival Café like the back of my hand. I use to work there until a rather peculiar coffee maker incident. He nodded in agreement.

"I will see you then Lauren Rose," he said. He stood up to leave. He was going to get nailed in the back of the head with a coffee mug pretty dang soon if he didn't knock off the name thing.

"It's Lor," I snapped. God he had really studied my driver's license. Jesus H Christ. _Lauren Rose _was the name I had sworn I would never use in public. It's a name no one should use in public.

"_Don't_ call me Lauren Rose," I snapped.

He just left with out further comment. Talk about Mr. Personality, maybe he really was just a cold blooded killer. Before I could even consider what I had just done Jessica slinkyed her way up to me.

"You didn't tell me you knew him," she accused me. "You could have told me, you know," she said, "it wasn't like I meant to drool all over your guy." I stared at her.

"Are you crazy?" I asked her before I could think better of it.

"So he's not your man?" She asked. I swear her eyes were screaming for trouble. Like I said before, Jessica has no relationship smarts.

"By all means you can have him," I said. "I don't even know the guy, I just kinda ran into him last night." I managed not to shudder.

"Well don't you get all the luck," she said.

"You don't know the half of it," I told her quietly.

"Oh by the way, I don't think he paid for his bill," Jessica informs me. "Looks like you get stuck picking it up. Tough Luck." I stared at her retreating back. I stared at his empty coffee mugs. Oh god…Vergil better have good life insurance because I was going to kill him.


	4. Carnival Cafe

Hello again! Just a quick note to say that this chapter is a bit long, I had to combine two smaller chapters while revising because they couldn't quite stand alone on their own. Anyways, back to the story. Enjoy!

(A special thanks to Mirror Rose 21! You rock my socks! )

By six thirty I was feeling the day baring down on my feet. An uncomfortable girl makes for some entirely uncomfortable company, but no better than Vergil deserved.by thenI was pretty surehe was a hired knife. I didn't have any expectations really,just that the guy would try to kill me. Hired knifes were something I had experience with and I stopped feeling bad about hurting them a long time ago. For his sake, Vergil better not be a hired knife, I'd hate to have to hurt him. That being said, I can't believe I ended up waiting twenty minutes for the guy to even show.

He arrived out of nowhere. Literally. I was sitting there contemplating how the new Carnival staff managed to get my scorch marks out of the carpet and walls, and then he was there sitting in the opposing seat. I don't know how he got there, but when I finally noticed him he was waiting expectantly for my attention. I nearly spit up my water because of him.

"You own me seven fifty for the coffee," I informed him, deciding not to comment on his sudden appearance. I'd seen that trick before. "After you conveniently forgot to pay, it was taken out of my check." He didn't say anything, but he raised his eyebrows.

"Normal people at least try to make a point of being on time too," I replied to his stare. "Assuming know the meaning of the words." I don't know what it is, but this guy seriously rubs me the wrong way. I'm still trying to put a finger on it. Most likely it was because everything about him irritated me. Especially his mild smirking amused expression. I'm not anyone's personal joke. I lit a cigarette and leaned back.

"So?" I prompted

He looked at me expectantly, "So?"

I gave him a look, "You have my bag?" And Id, and house keys...

"You can have it," he put my bag on the table top, "after you answer a single question for me." I sucked on my cig, considering. Hopefully he didn't see how much he was unnerving me right now. God, for a hired knife he was pretty good.

"What kind of question?" I asked as I tapped ashes into an ash tray. I should have known this was coming. Damn, another headache. Just my luck. He stared at me with cold eyes.

"What were you doing there last night?"

"Nothing," I replied. My head, it felt like there was a fucking jackhammer gnome brigade up there. Tiffany, a friend of mine, had given me pills for them. Unfortunately they weren't working. For a nurse she was doing a horrible job treating me. I'd been at her house last night, she was going to hook me up with something different, something that would work with any luck. I had been heading home from her house last night. Vergil raised an eye brow and a look of-hatred? Contempt? Disbelief?-flitted across his face. I rolled my eyes and sucked on my cigarette.

"I don't particularly enjoy liars," he replied coolly. "Tell me what you were doing there."

"What if I were to say it was none of you damning business?" I snapped.

"It is entirely my business," he replied quietly.

"Have you ever heard of the term 'invasion of privacy'?" I asked him.

"Have you ever had a dislocated arm?" he retorted coolly. I snorted. Yeah right.

"And how the hell would you pull off something like that?" I demanded. Like lightening, his hand attached itself to my left elbow, the tips of his fingers dug in, squeezing the tender inside and exposed funny bone together. He twisted it just a fraction of a hair. I gritted my teeth together to keep from yelping. I tried to pull my arm away, but it didn't budge an inch. The only thing that changed was that his grip tightened, making the pain worse.

"I could do a lot more than just dislocate it," he told me quietly. "Answer my question." I glowered at him and didn't say anything. He raised an eyebrow and did that fraction movement thing on my elbow again, holding it in place this time. Fire flared to life up my arm, I winced as the pain grew nearly unbearable in the space of a couple seconds. God he was good, whoever was paying him seriously wanted me dead this time.

"Hello hon," a curly red haired waitress said. Vergil let go instantly. Yes, interference run by the waitress in the dumpy brown apron. I swiftly jerked my arm under the table and into the relative safety of my lap. There I massaged it till the pain faded. "Can I get you two anything?'

"We're fine," Vergil replied in a flat voice, not looking at her. He was staring at me. If I screamed for help, and he got to me before the help did, I was as good as dead. Vergil just moved up from 'minor annoyance' to 'full blow problem'.

"I want a slice of cheese cake and your biggest mug of hot chocolate," I told her as she turned to leave. Her face brightened up as she began to write down the order.

Vergil sighed, drawing my attention. He leaned back and rested his right hand on the table top and inch from his fork. He raised an eyebrow at me. The meaning of his message was unmistakable, get rid of her or I will. I suppressed a shudder.

"Of course hon," the waitress replied, "anything else?"

"No thank you," I forced a smile at her.

"Alright I'll be right back with your orders." I watched her walk off before turning to back to him.

"You're a real asshole you know that?" I asked him.

"I'm not going to ask you a second time," he said. "A simple answer will work if a longer one is beyond you." I gave him a dirty look. Who did he think he was, demanding things from me? The waitress returned with the cheesecake and hot chocolate. I stared at him over my cheesecake, considering. So he wanted a simple answer did he?

"Fuck you," I replied. He smirked at me, the corner of his mouth tipping skyward. His eyes were iced diamonds.

"As you wish," he replied.

The back door of the restaurant swung open as I stumbled out into the alleyway. Behind me, he closed the metal door. The staff hadn't even bothered to stop him from dragging me out here.

"Jackass," I snapped, turning to him, "Who the hell do you think you are?" He tossed my bag to my feet.

"What were you doing there last night?" He asked me coolly. His voice held an edge.

"Would you have believed me if I said I was taking a walk?" I asked mildly asI reached down for my messenger bag.He raised an eyebrow at that, his face a mask. Goddamn he was hard to read. And then, because I couldn't resist. "Why? What aren't you telling me?"

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Never had friends as child did you?" I asked him. He chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. I don't see what's so funny. His laughter trailed off as he eyed me, a smirk still on his face.

"You're going to die, Lauren."

"Go to hell," I snapped. Does he seriously believe he's the first one to ever tell me this? It still chills me when I hear that though.

"Alright little human, if you wish to be so stubborn, you will reap your just desserts," he said. "Because of your presence in that construction sight last night, you're going to die, for the simple fact that you were there."

"What?" I asked him. He shrugged, and headed off down the ally. "Hey," I snapped, "who's going to kill me?"

"They," he said, glancing at me over his shoulder. I sure as hell hope his they weren't the same as my they, that simple fact alone was the only reason I decided to follow him down that ally.

"You were just released from a mental facility, weren't you?" I trailed behind him. He didn't pause when I started to walk beside him, just glanced over at me with a mild lookI couldn't interpet.

"Demons," he replied. I felt my heart beat literally stop. God, his they and _my_ they were the same They. Crap. The Order…

"Bullshit," I replied evenly. He stopped walking and turned to me. I stared him in the eye, shivering in the night air.

"They're very real," he reassured me softly.

"And what the hell do they have to do with me being there?" I demanded.

"Well I suppose that depends," he replied.

"On what?" I snapped.

"On why you were there. On whether or not you see what I see," he said.

"And what shouldI see?" I asked him.

"Proof," he told me grinning. It was the devil's own grin. I snorted.

"Keep it to yourself," I turned to leave. Like lightning he reached out and swung me around. His hands snaked around my waist one running up my back and the other was running down, both pulling me in close. _The Pervert!_ I felt my blood boil.  
"Get your _goddamning_ hands off my-" I started. I never got a chance to finish what I was going to say because right behind him was a spider. A really **_big_** spider. It filled the small alleyway completely. I _hate_ spiders, and that one appeared to have been following us.

"Oh god," I whispered, sucking in the cold night air. I heard him chuckle in my ear.

"Ah, _now_ she believes. They've been looking for you for quite a while, I might add. Scared already Lauren?" he whispered quietly, in my ear. His voice was mocking. "I thought you were tougher than that." The spider was slowly lurching towards us.

"My name is _Lor_," I hissed back in between my teeth, "So bite me for not believing." The spiders were coming closer, the fangs in their mouths twitching, their huge black bead eyes were blinking. I had no doubt that it saw the two of us with all six of it's eyes. I shuddered.

"Hmm, first you tell me to fuck you, now you ask me to bite you. Which is the better offer, I wonder?" he asked me, his breath hot against my earlobe in the cool night. I could feel his mouth curling into a grin against my skin. The _hell_ I said that.

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on," I hissed angrily, "that wasn't a fucking offer." And that _thing_ was coming closer. I struggled to free myself, but his hand was at the back of my head, fingers entwined in my hair, his other arm was wrapped around me now, pinning my arms at my side. I had to hand it to him, he knew what he was doing.

"Be a good girl and save us both a little grief," he quietly told me, "you don't want todoor say anything for the next ten minutes. Understood Lauren?"

"_My name is Lor_," I hissed again, trying to free my hands. He pulled my head back, painfully tightening his hold on my hair. It hurt, not a whole lot, but enough.

"Do you understand?" he asked me quietly, seriously, scarily. The spider was so close now, it bent it's head down and looked me, eye to eyes, the pinchers at the mouth moving rapidly, and a small amount of drool falling from its maws. That just wasn't right.

"Yes, Vergil," I shuddered again. The pain in my head was making me see spots.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other," hereplied easily. He tightened his grip on me for a moment, nearly crushing the breathout of me. A moment latter I was flying backwards. I sprawled out, scraping my hands across the pavement.I'd never met someone as strong as him, my handswere bleeding and looked likechewed up When I looked up, Vergil was hacking the spider up with a sword, a katana actually. God, I've never seen a katana used like that. It looked like liquid lightning. The way the spider died, it scared me more than the spider itself did.

Then he turned around with the sword still out. Fuck me. Scrabbling, I dug my heels into the pavement. How could I be so stupid to pass up that kind of opportunity to get the hell away? Fuck, what had I been thinking? He was a hired knife. He was hired to fucking kill me! When he lunged, I ducked, falling on my ass again as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I jumped when the screaming came not from me, but directly left of my head. I opened my eyes just in time to see him cut the thing's head off, his blade coming to a stop a millimeter just before it smashed into my own face. The sword's edge gently teased my check, the hard metal cold as ice against my skin. Slowly he lowered the blade, his face was completely impassive. The jerk.

Ignoring him,I looked down to whatever it was that had fallen into my lap. It looked like a wooden skull-like head with red orange eyes that were slowly cooling to blackness, like embers did.. It smelled like the inside of a tar pit. _That's the way Demons smell, _the memory of her voice whispered in my ear. Taking a deep breath I tossed the skull down the alleyway.

"Friend of yours?" I asked faintly. He yanked me to my feet, an approving expession on his face.

"For a human, you're not quite as pathetic as I thought you'd be," he informed me. He grabbed my arm and nearly dragged me down the ally. I said nothing as he opened the door to a car and shoved me in the front seat. Demons? In the city? That wasn't possible. This was a safe place. Wasn't it? And what exactly did he mean by 'for a human'?


	5. The Proposal

We had pulled onto the highway by the time I came to myself. I couldn't stop reliving what I had just seen, and the warm spray of hot from last night. Fuck, was he from the Order or wasn't he? I decided against asking him outright, on the off chance he wasn't. Still, if he wasn't a hired knife, what was he?

"What the hell was that?" I asked. My voice had an amazing lack of emotion to it.

"Demons," he replied flatly, shifting gear.

"No shit. What the hell was _that_?" I demanded. "You just kill a couple of demons and decided to take me for a joy ride?"

"Are you ready to listen to what I have to say now?" he asked dryly. "Or perhaps you'd prefer remaining the stubborn ass."

"Maybe you'd prefer my foot up your ass," I growled.

"You could try," he commented, unperturbed. "Those were messenger demons. No doubt they've reported to their masters by now. Give it some time and the word will be out. Then they'll be hunting for you in droves. They won't hesitate to kill you, Lauren. And I, however much I hate to say this, am indebted to you."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked disbelieving. "Why the hell would they be hunting me?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "Though I intend to find out. By all rights, it's me they should be hunting, and I believe they are. However, for whatever reason, they seem to be attracted to you."

"I didn't ask for this," I grumbled.

"Neither did I," he replied, "a human helping a demon is degrading."

"Well sorry to hurt your pride Lancelot," I snapped.

"You should be," he said.

"Go to hell," I snapped.

"I have," he said softly. His voice sent shivers down my spine. What did he just say? "I have no love for mortals, and you're no exception. The next time I ask something of you, I would advise you to do it, Lauren." No love for mortals, huh? Coulda fooled me for a moment there…

"It's Lor," I snapped trying to calm down. My hands were still shaking slightly. "Try to get my name right. It shouldn't be that much to ask of a great demon like yourself." I fumbled for the new pack of cigarettes in my pants pocket. Hopefully they weren't crushed.

"Hell exists," he said as if I had asked him to tell me about it. "It's a dimension laying directly side by side to this one, the one you would term as 'earth' or 'home'. Most of the lower class demons can't cross the barriers between the two dimensions. Only stronger individual demons, half-breds, and summoned messenger-soldier puppets can cross the barrier. Do you understand?" I darted a glare at him but didn't say anything. I yanked a crumpled cigarette out of the pack. Perfect, just perfect. "Do you understand," he said more slowly, with more emphasis.

"Fine," I snapped civilly. I lit it with my Lucky Strike lighter. He got his point across the first time. I didn't feel like having my face smashed in by his katana or being left to deal with demons on my own. I could handle one or two, but not droves of them. I rolled the window down some. Was it really possible for me to accept all this calmly? Well…yeah…it was, sadly enough.

"So what does that make you?" I asked after a moment. He didn't reply. "It's not like you're human," I muttered.

"Wrong," he growled. I raised an eyebrow at him. So he wasn't a demon? I snorted.

"I'm a half breed," he said coldly, as if inviting me to say something. Even I'm not that stupid. Half breed, huh? That explained the strength among other things.

"And they would be hunting you because?"

"I disobeyed orders," he said flatly.

"Disobeyed orders?" I asked. "What exactly-?"

"It's none of your affair," he cut me off gruffly. "All you need to know is that there are demons out there and they _will_ kill you, and me, if possible."

"You pissed someone off didn't you?" I asked him wryly. He didn't say anything.

"Thought so," I commented. "I can't imagine why that would happen to you." I pulled on the cigarette, getting it lit.

"I see you're lady among whores," he said caustically. There was a slightest of twitches in his voice. Think I may have hit a nerve. Wait a minute, what did he just call me? "Put out the cigarette, Lauren."

"What about that harpy thing?" I asked, ignoring his request. I couldn't believe this shit was starting to interest me, then again, all things considered. I might as well get some useful information out of this. He looked over to me, not saying anything.

"From last night, the harpy bitch, what about her?" I clarified. He looked away, concentrating on his driving. We were weaving though the heavy city traffic.

"She's a construct who goes by the name Lucia, as far as I know. A type of half-breed as I am, however she wasn't born. She was created," he said. He glanced at me again, a cold fire in his eyes. "Put out the damning cigarette."

"No," I replied flatly. He stared at me. Well, he had the scary look down pat.

"I'm not going to do that for several reasons, Vergil dear. One, you're a prick," informed him, ticking the points off on my fingers, "Two, you stole my back pack. Three, you tried to grope me, and four, you pushed me down into solid concrete. That _hurt, _my hands are still bleeding. I get a cigarette."A grim, amused smirk spreading across his face.

"It's your body to offer, Lauren."

"It wasn't an offer!" I exploded. "I didn't ask-"

"Then perhaps next time you'll listen, and not be so difficult," he interrupted me softly.

"My name is _not_ that difficult to remember." I snapped. I tried to suppress a shiver and pulled my loose denim jacket tighter around me. I was cold even in the car. It was his eyes, they were scary. Where were we going anyways?

"So a construct is like test tube baby?" I asked him.

"More or less," he replied.

"Great," I sighed, "another name to add to my hate list."

"You're going to have a long list in the next couple of weeks," he assured me. "Especially after tonight."

"Yeah, you've said all that," I interrupted him, "what's the fine print?" Adding more names to my mile long hate-list, damn, I am making an abundance of friends this year.

"They'll think you're a partner of mine, and because you're human, it'll be inherent that they'll assume a human weakness as a character flaw. Insulting and stupid of them, but I think I'll manage," he said. Character flaw didn't even begin to cover it.

"You'll manage?" I asked disbelieving. Humble modesty, _not_ an issue. I threw my cigarette butt out the window and rolled it back up.

"You'll be my partner for the next couple of months. It should be beneficial to learn more."

"I never signed up for this," I retorted.

"And you can kill demons?" he asked me. Well he had me there…kinda... I said nothing.

"I thought as much." He tone suggested I was a three year old. "I'll protect you, but only because I have to. Like I said before, I am indebted to you."

"Partner?" I asked. Right who exactly was he going to protect me from? Himself? "You're insane you know that? I mean who goes around fighting demons? Who is _from_ hell? And who exactly are 'they'? You never really defined what that was, _partner_."

That's when he did the scariest thing yet, he sighed, and with that sigh, looked just as human as you or I. Then it was like he just walled up again, after letting out just a sliver of his mind to be seen by the world. Here I thought I had secrecy issues. He looked so human for a moment, he had actually looked _vulnerable_. I had almost wanted to tell _him_ everything would be alright. Almost. Thankfully the feeling passed. Vergil definitely had an expressive face when he chose to express anything that resembled human manners. Maybe it's a demon thing.

"I can see you're going to be a joy to work with. If you wish, consider this to be a business proposal of sorts, your life in exchange for the lives of my trackers. My way of repaying the debt I owe you. As for the infamous _them_, there are many, many possibilities as to who 'they' could be," he admitted dryly.

"Didn't you say you pissed of a higher ranking demon?" I asked him skeptically.

"No, you did," he growled. "It's a little more complicated than that. There are many demons. Hell is more complex that the simplified version your religions idealize. It could be anyone hunting me, not that they'll gain anything by it."

I glanced at him. He was lying, there was no other answer. I can smell bullshit a mile away. Besides one didn't hunt another unless there was something to gain by it. When you're being hunted by other demons, you're bound to have something to lose.

"So how do you know you're being hunted?" I asked him dully.

"Want my life story while you're at it?" he asked me dryly.

"Assuming you have one," I snapped. God he was irritating.

"Believe me, I have lived more in the last two days than you ever will human," he replied coolly. I glared at him.

"And what the hell is _that_ suppose to mean?" I asked.

"It would be nearly impossible to ask you to understand, Lauren." I groaned and unloosened my tie. Smug bastard. It was definitely one of those days.


	6. The Hell Smith

Alrighty! Next chapter, have fun!

* * *

I woke up when the car came to a halt, the moon was almost down and the stars were fading from the sky. How I fell asleep sitting next to that guy is a mystery to me. It must be the headaches. The car clock said it was four in the morning.

"What the hell are we doing?" I asked him. Looking out the window I saw we were in the middle of now where, parked in front of tall iron gates that read, 'Wish House'. We were in Silent Hill, a good two hour and a half drive from home, but it had taken us nearly seven hours to get here, if my math was right. Why in bloody hell were we at _Wish House_?

"Were did we go when I fell asleep?" I asked him. He glanced at me, his face showing a vague trace of amusement, but he remained silent. "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"No," he agreed. Figures. "Now," he waved a hand towards the silent looming building, "shall we?" Right, tell the pretty girl to get out of the car when you park it next to the abandoned building.

"_How_ exactly do you owe me?" I asked suddenly. We were definitely going to have to define the meaning of 'partner', preferably while still I was alive to complain about it. He raised an eyebrow at me and got out of the car.

"If you don't know then I'm not going to tell you," he replied coolly.

"Afraid I'll take advantage of your pride?" I asked sarcastically. I eyed the dark looming building. The Silent Hill Wish House was an abandoned orphanage. It was shut down exactly ten years ago when an undercover government agent discovered the true nature of Wish House. No children were adopted from Wish House, and the ones that had been adopted were discovered in the furnace heater. A local religion of crackpots had been brainwashing the orphaned children, converting them to their religion, the ones they couldn't convert they eliminated. Every person in a 100 mile radius knew about Wish House.

"I'm not going in there," I said. "Everybody knows about that place. Why are we here?"

"Superstitious Lauren?" he asked me smirking. Damn him, every time he smirked at me like that I got the feeling he was secretly laughing at me.

"Oh that's right, I'm with _you_," I replied dryly. "Mr. Slice n' Dice."

"I have business inside. You're coming with. I wouldn't dream of leaving you in the car alone," He informed me easily, leaning in the car door. "That would be bad hospitality."

"I'm really beginning to dislike you Vergil," I said flatly. Vergil really did laugh at me that time. I struggled not to snarl as I kicked my car door open. Like he gave a damn about hospitality.

At the front door, we paused for a moment. By then I was ready to go home and forget everything that was happening. No way I'd get that lucky. As it was, the doorknob to the front door was broken.

"Um," I said breaking the silence, "who are you meeting here?" Vergil ignored me as he fiddled with the door knob. He kicked the door open a second latter without comment. Vergil seems to have an amazing lack of patience.

"So I take it this isn't a covert operation," I said staring at the gaping hole were the door used to be. My ears were still ringing from the scream of twisting wood. The door itself was embedded in the wall across the entry way. Maybe it was a good thing he owed me... I shuddered in the cold wind.

"Ladies first," Vergil said, sounding bemused. That jerk was laughing at me again.

"After you asshole," I snarled back. Vergil went in first, still laughing. The inside of the Wish House was as run down as much as the outside had been. All the furniture of the place was moth-eaten and had been moved about. Empty beer cans littered the floor. On the walls, pages from the Sacraments of the Eternal Goddess were pasted, the cult's unholy bible. It looked like there had been a recent fight in there as well. There were large claw scratches across the walls and floor.

"What the hell are those?" I asked. Vergil just ignored me, taking in the main hall of the orphanage. I looked about the small room and shuddered.

"This way," he said, heading for a small doorway in an alcove bathed in shadows. The closer we got to it, the more it reeked. It smelled like rotten eggs and meat. The smell alone made me retch.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I choked on another gag. Vergil pushed the small rotted door open all the way. The smell tripled and I almost did throw up. After a minute or two the gagging stopped asI became acclimated to the smell. Jesus, what the hell was that?

"Let's go," Vergil said from where he was leaning on the door frame, watching me with a bored expression.

"What?" I asked wiping my watering eyes. Was he going to kill me and leave my body here, next to who knew how many other bodies? I felt my stomach tie into a tighter knot, if that was possible. Maybe he was just another hired knife, albeit a weird one.

"Inside. We're going inside," he said, more slowly this time, like he was speaking to a three year old.

"Oh hell, no," I replied flatly. "You go ahead, but I'm staying right here." I swallowed another gag. "What'd you do, dump the bodies of your previous girlfriends here?"

"Don't flatter yourself," He said flatly, "We're going inside, and we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I ain't going in there," I told him firmly. He stared at me annoyed. I folded my arms and leaned against the far wall defiantly.

"Very well then," he said softly. Then I was casually lifted up and slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down! I'm not going in there!" I kicked. The motherfriggin, who did he think he was? A moment latter I was dropped on my ass like somebody's luggage.

"Gee thanks a lot. If I get sick all over, you better not bitch about buying me a new outfit," I told him angrily. Inside the room was pitch black and I heard Vergil walk around me, or I think he did. A moment latter a dim light filled the room.

I looked around in the dim light, and really ended up regretting it. It was meat. A big slab of rotted meat, hanging from a hook screwed into the ceiling in front of the cult's satanic alter. The meat slab was so gross, I could see the maggots crawling all over it, dripping to the floor in liquid meaty drops. I nearly died on a gag that lasted for three minutes. Fumbling I felt for my cigarettes. I lit up, breathing deeply, filling my mouth and nose with cigarette smoke. Anything to drown out the meat smell.

"Get over here," Vergil said. He was kneeling before the alter and the meat wad. I groaned.

"Couldn't have sat somewhere else, could you?" Something weird was going on here, but I knew Vergil wouldn't talk. Call it a hunch. It's times like this that I wonder what I'm doing with my life.

I went and knelt down next to him. Ignoring the meat wad, I concentrated on the object laying on the ground infront of us. It was some kind of weird looking mirror. I really can't explain it. The mirror looked more like a black hole than reflective glass.

"What is that?" I asked.

"We're going to summon a demon across the barrier," Vergil informed me. "It can be a difficult task, especially when the demon doesn't have a desire to go where summoned. That being said, your constant questions are irritating. It would be beneficial for you to remain silent." I gave him a dirty look.

"Excuse me?"

"Shut up," he replied flatly.

"I just love it when you speakso sweetly to me," I grumbled. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me how we're going to do this are you?"

"Shut your mouth and don't move. Understand?"

"Not really." I replied. I jumped when the wind kicked up and howled through out the shell of the orphanage.

"Nervous?" he asked. I snorted.

"Good," he replied, "then you should have no problem. Hold out your hand." Vergil pulled out a small knife. I stared at him. This was bringing back unpleasant memories, he was serious about summoning a demon across the barrier. The real question now: was he or wasn't he part of the Order?

"Hold out your hand Lauren." I crossed my arms and glared at him. He wasn't getting anything until he called me by my real name, and even then he'd be lucky. He grabbed my arm, squeezing it. I bit back a yelp and clenched my teeth. Easily he held my arm over the mirror. Carefully, he drew the blade against my palm. A long line of red began welling out of the cut. I tried to yank my hand back, but not surprisingly, he was stronger than me. He held my wrist over the mirror till several red drops had fallen onto it. After that, he let go.

Glaring at him I began to wrap it up with my tie. Holding the knife in his right hand, he made a couple of cuts on the inside of his left wrist and let his own blood drop onto the mirror, _and then it disappeared_. Mine and his, it was sucked into the mirror. What the hell? And seriously, how sanitary was this?

A moment latter something pulled itself _out_ of the mirror. It was grotesque looking with gross oily liquid dripping off it's wrinkled scaly hide. And let's not forget the smell. The thing had three horns on it's head, black eyes that blended into it's skin with brilliant yellow pupils. It had a fat bulging stomach and cruel looking claws that looked like they could easily tear a human apart. It didn't look like any demon I had seen before.

After a minute of struggling, the thing had pulled itself out of the mirror, standing on frog like legs. It leered when it saw me, but thankfully quickly turned it's attention to Vergil. I am never going to have a demon owe me anything, ever again. Vergil stood, and I followed suit.

"Well, now, a mighty ssson of Sssparda hasss sssummoned me," the thing croaked. It's voice sounded like an ungreased axel. I flinched every time the thing talked, along with a general feeling of repulsion it gave me. I sucked on my cancer stick, staring at it. If my dear 'partner' was going to feed me to that thing…

"Hell's secret keeper," Vergil greeted him. "It's been a while hell-smith, I have a request to make of you." Vergil straitened and crossed his arms.

"What you get for nothing isss nothing, perhapsss a trade isss in order?" It wheezed. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, if you but give me the girl to do with asss I wisssh." I gagged again. Just the very idea of that thing anywhere _near_ me…

"Screw that," I muttered. Vergil must have heard me, because he graced me with a look over his shoulder, one eyebrow upraised.

"Sorry, she's not for sale. However, might I interest you in something to eat?" He gestured to the hanging meat beside the creature. Turning creature inspected the meat, muttering over it, and ripped a small chuck off, which it proceeded to eat. My stomach rolled. The demon turned back to Vergil.

"You have a trade then, Ssson of Sssparda, although I would give you the deepessst sssecretsss of hell for that one," the thing wheezed as it chewed on the rotting meat and maggots, gracing me with lurid looks. It smirked at me with yellow and orange crooked teeth. I glared back and gave it the finger. It narrowed it's eyes at me then,and even Vergil glared at me over my shoulder. What? I hadn't said anything. I crossed by arms, glaring back at the two of them.

"I'll keep that in mind," Vergil said, giving me a hard stare. He turned his attention back to the demon. "I need to know about the key."

"Ah, yesss, the key to god, the mother of dessstruction." It chuckled and ripped off another piece of meat.

"What do you know?" The thing ignored Vergil and slid the slimy meat into his mouth. Vergil easily unsheathed his sword, his face blank.

"Asss you wisssh, firssst born of Sssparda," the demon wheezed, slightly amused. He graced me with another lurid look. "I will tell you whatever you desssire, however, the human must firssst sssleep."

"What?" I demanded. There was no way I was going to sleep in the same room as that thing. The demon licked it's yellow teeth with a black tongue.

"Make her sssleep in my presssenccce and knowledge will be yours." Vergil turned.

"No way," I snapped, taking a step back. "Not a chance in fucking frozen _hell_."

"Sorry Lauren," Vergil said with a smirk. Bastard. His hand lashed out, even as I ducked. There wasn't much of a struggle I could put up, he was too fast. Easily he squeezed the tender nerves and muscles at the base of my neck, sending a numb shockwave down my spin. The world started to go hazy as I fell. The last thing I saw was the demon's disgusting teeth.


	7. Short End of the Stick

Thanks for the reviews p.k.I really appreiciate them. They put abig grin on my face. I'll be updating the story regularly, but school work comes first (more or less) so on busy weeks, I might not update quite so fast, but since the story's pretty much been written out, it's just a matter of revising to makeit flow better. Enough talkie, more reading. Enjoy.

* * *

Vergil caught the human, easing her to the ground. He looked to the other.

"Satisfied?"

"If you would be ssso kind asss to move her closssser," the demon grinned. Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"I highly doubt it."

"Come now Nero, I mussst tassste of her blood," the demon leered, it's eyes traveling about the girl's body. It took a quick step back as a knife blade became embedded next to it's foot. "What isss thisss?" It demanded, sniffing the air.

"Her blood," Vergil replied shortly. He stood, watching the demon.

"It isss tainted," the creature hissed, sniffing the knife blade. Delicately, it's purple black tounge swept the hilt clean of any red, leaving it glisening silver in the dim hell light.

"I believe one such as you can easily decipher what I'm looking for," Vergil said tersely. "My own blood and her's cover that blade demon. Tell me what I seek."

"Bah," the demon hissed. "Thisss wasss not the price I agreed to. I demand flessssssh mongrel."

"And so you have it," Vergil replied nonplussed.

"I demand warm living ssssskin," the demon's eyes once again traveled to the unconscious human. "Ssskin that ssscreamsss and ssstrugglesss ass I consssume it." There it's eyes stayed, trained on the human, as if entranced.

"What is she demon?" Vergil demanded. "She's no ordinary human."

"True," the demon muttered, rolling his tongue back on itself. "The queen of hell would not ssseek her if thisss wasss not ssso."

"And is she the key?" At that the demon's electric eyes found Vergil again.

"You know not what you play with mongrel," it hissed. "The queen would have your head for sssuch disssobedience." At that Vergil had to smile.

"I serve none save for myself, demon. Tell me what I seek to know."

"You would dethrone the queen?" The hell-smith shook it's head. "Ssshe isss indeed the one the queen hasss been ssseeking. Ssshe is the very key to ssslumbering god, mongrel, much may the knowledge pleassse you."

"It does," the half demon replied coolly. "I have your silence demon?" Yamoto's edge gleamed in the dim light of the fires of hell, as did the red eyes of the Halfling.

"You need not threaten me with your pretty sssword mongrel," the demon glowered. "You have my ssssilenccce, nay, my blesssing."

"Then I leave you now demon," Vergil turned to the girl.

"You're taking the human?" the demon nearly screeched. Smirking he turned to the demon, the human in his arms.

"I have a tendency to keep my valuables close," he replied. "The likes of her are not for your fare."

"Bassstard mongrel. You ssshouldn't be ssso cheap Ssson of Sssparda, it isss unbecoming of your blood line. Loossse tonguesss are made by empty stomachsss and lonely bedsss." The demon's eyes turned a deep revolting purple as it eyed the women flesh that it couldn't rend and possess.

"I've noticed you don't seem to care either way," Vergil replied carelessly. "And any loosening of your tongue is mainly due to the price paid out by the asker. I have asked for a little thing and given you twice as much one such as you has deserved over the years."

"Then consssider thisss a helping tip from a buisssnesss ally. The three headed gaurdsssman watchesss over the firssst forbidden relic in the hallwaysss of modern yore," the thing hissed as it sunk into the mirror, it's body somehow contorting to fit it's huge bulk into the smaller mirror as it dragged the rotting flesh with it. "You will have a ready ally with him, ssshould you have the nerve to free him asss I believe you are intending to do." Vergil nodded. "Next time Sssparda, I will have the woman." Smirking, Vergil turned to leave.

"When I am through with her demon, she will be eating _you_ for breakfast and not the other way around.

I woke up in my home, in bed, with the covers drawn up to my chin. Gasping I sat up, how had I gotten here? Looking down, I was slightly relieved to see I was still dressed like I was ready for work. Not that _that_ meant too much when you got right down to it. The clock on my night stand read eight am, right next to the half full bottle of Jack Daniels. Groaning I laid back down, rubbing my aching forehead.

Had that been a dream? Had it really happened? I pushed myself up on my elbows again.Next to my night stand my boots were cleanly set out, one right next to the other. Next to them my messenger bag rested. If I had gone out and gotten drunk, now way in hell I would have been that tidy passing out. I gritted my teeth together. Why is it when ever Vergil was around, I managed to get the short end of the stick?


	8. The Other One

I woke up to someone pounding on my front door. The sun was setting, I'd slept the entire day away. Good thing it was my day off, what with the little stunt Vergil had pulled on me. I considered leaving the door locked and unanswered. If it was important enough they'd come back to bother me latter. No way was I getting outta bed.

Ten minutes later found me swearing as I eased my robe on. I opened the door without taking off the sliding lock.

"Yeah?"

"Ms. Star, your rent's due." It was Mr. Cage, in the seventies leisure suit and smacking chewing gum. Must be going to pick up hookers again. I tried to suppress a groan but failed.

"You do have this month's rent don't you?" he asked, sticking his weasel face closer to my cracked door. He spends most the rent on picking up hookers or to enlarge his growing cocaine addiction. I think that's a federal crime of sorts.

"Yeah, yeah, give me a couple of minutes." I snapped the door shut. I couldn't exactly slam it because it hadn't been open enough in the first place. It took me a minute or two to retrieve my stash from it's hiding place and sort out the right amount. By then Leisure Suit Jerk Off was pounding on my door again. Did that guy have any tact? …Never mind, pointless question. I unlocked the door and shoved the cash into his outstretched hands.

"Here, now get lost." Mr. Cage's piggy eyes shifted between the cash he was counting and my face. What the hell was he looking at? After a few minutes he straitened up and shoved the cash into his pocket.

"It's all there doll," he said, looking at me again. He was looking at me like that demon from last night. "Hey, you want me to cut you a deal on next month's rent?" he leaned on the door frame, a sincere expression on his face. … … … He looked sincere too. What's the catch?

"Really?"

"Well, of course I could do that for you. Perhaps you'd like to step inside, were we can discus this with out being interrupted." He smirked, his disgusting piggy eyes roving. Right, 'discus' was exactly what gutter head was thinking about. What had I expected answering the door in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a robe? What a pig, well at least that made this easier in any case, there was only so many things a person could do before your bad karma caught up. I gave him a slow grin.

"Really?" I crooned, draping my arms over his shoulders, "I'd have been nicer if I had known. Is that all I have to do baby?" Surprised Cage was quick to regain in his sick composure. Smirking his hands felt their way up my front, untying my robe belt. That's right you son of a bitch...

"I knew you would like a deal," Cage said, stabbing for a sincere air. His hands ran their way down my hips, groping.

"Yeah, I'd like a deal," I whispered licking my lips with the tip of my tongue. "Would you give me a deal?" My voice was a seductive tease.

"I didn't know you liked deals so much," Cage said openly leering now. His eyes hadn't left my breasts the whole time. "I'd have asked you sooner if I had known." I felt my grin widening into a real smile now. This was almost too easy. Swiftly I brought my knee up. Gagging, Cage doubled over.

"How's this for a deal," I said coolly. I grabbed a fist full of his hair as I drove my knee into his nose. Swearing Cage fell to the ground holding his bleeding nose. I think I might have broken it, judging by the amount of blood leaking through his fingers. "Stay the fuck away from me and I won't have to castrate you." I re-tied my robe closed.

"Bitch," he swore.

"Manwhore," I snapped. "Get bent." I was shaking I was so angry. Swearing he got to his feet slowly. I watched him without mercy.

"Try it, I dare you," I taunted him. He glowered at me, holding hisbleeding nose,but otherwise didn't make a move. "And just so you know, any woman that's _that_ easy, is either drunk or part of a sting operation." I slammed my door shut and locked it. Turning I surveyed my home.

No kitchen table, two wobbly stools at the island counter, a run down couch covered with old quilts to spruce it up. The widow curtains were noting but bead strings. A bookshelf that held CD's, my stereo, and books. The bathroom had a leaky faucet and a tiny shower.

The only room I treasured in this shit hole was my bed room. A thick red velvet curtain separated the rest of the apartment from my bedroom. It was windowless and the walls were painted black. My sheets were black silk. I treasure sleeping comfortably. All my clothes were there too. A beau and a closet, my old guitar, the few photographs I possessed, anything I treasured too much to put on open display on the bookshelf really. I even slept with my old teddy bear, Gram. Yeah, yeah, I sleep with a teddy bear, so fuck off about it.

I sized up the general living space. I cann't even afford a land line, all I have is a cell. This was not the ritz. This was close to poverty hell. My life is this and he demands more from me. Bastard, serves him right.

That night I decided I deserved a little treat, and my head wasn't hurting too badly, so I invited Tiffany to go clubbing. I got lucky, her and Josh decided to join me for some hard core drunkness and pounding music. Josh doesn't really drink likeTiffany and I, butI knew we'd have a good time.

We went to some new place I'd never gone to before, dressed to kill. I was wearing some jeans with a cute little lacy coset top I'd fished at an antique store. I couldn't resist giving Tiff a run for her money. She was dressed in an ungodly short jean skirt and a cute tank top, ready to play. Wish I had legs like that. Josh was wearing his usual baggy jeans and t-shirt gig. I wonder if he knew Tiffany had dressed up specifically for him.

Tiffany and Josh have to be the wierdest couple I've met. Not that that mattered. They were the only people who cared I existed, my only family, and for that they'll always have me at their back. I don't hold much above my own being as valuable, but loyalty to one's family and close friends is something I do. The place we went to was called Rag-a-Bone. It was the first time that day that I was able to relax and be conscious at the same time. Demons…they really throw a freaking monkey wrench into things.

"We should go drinking," Tiffany yelled into my ear. Her words were slurred. I laughed.

"We are you stupid slut," I yelled back, just as drunk.

"Lor!" Josh steadied Tiffany as she tried to grind him. No way in hell she'd have been doing that if she wasn't wasted. "I'm taking her home. Will you be alright?"

"I'm fucking great!" I shouted.

"Are you drunk?" he demanded. I could hardly see his chocolat brown eyes in the darkness ofthenight club. I giggled. Like he'd know the difference.

"No! See you tomorrow," I yelled. He nodded.

"Yeah. Take care of yourself alright? Call me when you get home, understand?" So maybe he did know better…

"You got it!" I watched as Josh pulled Tiffany along behind him. It wasn't long before I lost them in the crowd. What the hell, one more drink and I'd call it a night. I stepped off the dance floor. Then the world stopped reeling as Icaught sight of unmistakable platinum white hair. At first I though it was just the strobe light, but the color was still there even after the light went out. _Vergil_.

That jerk, he and I were going to have some words. What was he doing here? Wait a second, Vergil? Listening to club mix music? Yeah, and some day pigs will fly. Then again, for all I knew, in hell they did. Either way, this guy was going to hear from me on the simple bases of looking like Vergil. I was drunk enough not to give a damn either way.

"Hey," I snapped annoyed, reaching him. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?" The guy slowly turned and looked at me. I blinked, trying to make the world stop shifting long enough to get a good look at him. Was that Vergil? Something seemed a little off.

"What did you say?" he asked me coolly, taking everything in with a glance. His voice was different from Vergil's. Granted they were remarkably similar but there was a difference none the less. I leaned in closer, the eye shade was off too. This guy had lighter colored eyes. The color wasjust the slightest ofa fraction off. How strange that they looked so alike.

Next to him a gorgeous blond turned to study me as well. Her skin was a flawless and creamy. Plus she was wearing a mini-skirt I could only dream of wearing, showing off her long, graceful legs. Huh, one of those high maintenance chics who had to have perfect everything. Just my luck.

"Look Dante another goth in need of your autograph," The blond said with a mocking smile. Dante huh? I snorted. At least he wasn't Vergil. If he had been, I'd probably be starting a bar fight right now.

"Nope, you're not him," I said crossing my arms and leaning back on my heels. It was getting hard to balance now that the strobe light was back on."Sorry," I added.That was a relief, Vergil wasn't stalking me in his spare time.

"And who the hell did you think I was?" he asked coolly, a smirk on his face.

"She's a lost little goth that fell off the train of self-delusion," the woman snickered, "I don't even think she knows who she is."The blond took a sip of her drink, watching me with an amused expression. What's with people these days? Were are the manners? And wearing a lot of black does not make me a goth.

"You don't need to be a jerk. I said I was sorry," I snapped.

"Oh now that _we're_ the ones being rude," the woman commented. The smirk on the guy's face widened. This wasn't worth the effort. Sighing, I turned to leave.

"No really babe, who do you think I am?" the guy called to me, chuckling. Babe? Cocky bastard. I turned back to him. If he really wanted to know, then the jerk deserved to know. In retro spect, this was going to be another, what-was-I-thinking moments in my life.

"Well you're sure as hell not Vergil, you smug bastard," I snapped. I spun on my heel and stocked off. Angrily I left the Rag-a-Bone. Fucking demons always put me on edge, it was killing the plesant buzz. Next time I saw Vergil I was going to tell him what I thought of him and his damning demon buddies.

"What did she just say?" Trish asked Dante quietly. When he didn't reply she glanced over at him. She knew for a fact that he'd heard her over the pounding music.

"I think she just said we have a job tonight," Dante replied. He drained his beer and stood up. "Let's go babe."


	9. Job 2

When I got home there was a surprise waiting for me, Vergil. I didn't realize it at first though. I was pushing my way past the thick curtain, trying to get my top off, before he said anything

"Good evening Lauren." I jumped.Turning, I didn't see a damn thing. Then he stood up, wearing another skin tight shirt that definitely would've made Jessica's mouth water. Heck it was making mine water, not that I'd ever let him know that.

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever had the misfortune of meeting," I snapped. "And believe me I know quiet a few." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not dead yet," he replied mildly.

"I'm not a fucking maggot-demon's plaything either," I snapped. He sighed.

"I thought you'd say as much."

"I'm just getting started. How the hell did that play into the whole partner concept? Who the hell do you think you are, doing something like that? You should do me a favor and-"

"Are you grievously injured in any way?" Vergil asked mildly, interrupting me. I stared at him, drunk and blinking. He caught me off guard with that.

"…No."

"Are you dead?"

"No."

"Then why are you complaining?" he asked. He had a point there, but then again so did I.

"Because you knocked me out! Because you dragged me to fucking Wish House in the middle of the night! Because I don't know you! Because you're in my house uninvited!" I growled, "And most importantly because I'm drunk and I want to sleep!" He snorted.

"Get over it. Had I not been there, Lauren, you'd be dead. And if you weren't you'd be wishing you were."

"What the _hell_ are you doing in my house?" I growled. I wasn't surprised to see him, just pissed as hell. After seeing his clone and the pretty girlfriend at the Bone and Rag it was almost like a godsending that he'd be pop up.

"Something came up," he said. "You weren't home when I arrived."

"So you let your self in?" I demanded.

"Your boyfriend didn't seem to mind," he replied. He turned and began inspecting the stacked bookcase. What did he just say?

"Boyfriend?" I asked him blankly. "_What_ boyfriend? I don't _have_ a boyfriend!" God I need head meds. You would too if you came home to find a half-demon waiting for you-which is bad enough-with news that someone has broken into your house. And to top it off he's being coy with the details.

"That's not surprising," Vergil muttered. He glanced at me.

"There was someone in my house?" I asked, ignoring his other comment. I thought for a few minutes. Was it Linda? No, Vergil said it was a guy. Was it Kou? Or Volt? Josh maybe? What if it was the Order? Had they found me? Again. I groaned. Vergil didn't seem to be paying attention again.

"Hey!" I snapped. Vergil stared at me blankly for a moment before returning to the bookcase. "What _guy_? And excuse me, but you just decided you'd let yourself in?"

"The man that was in your apartment when I came here," he said in the you're-a-slow-dumb-person voice. He was still facing the book shelf too. I knew for a fact that my CDs were not that interesting.

"Well do you mind telling me what he looked like?" I snapped. "He might have just he broke into my home." For my sake, I _really_ hope it wasn't the Order after me again. I'm too drunk right now to put up a decent fight.

"He was middle-aged, balding, chewed gum, and wore cheap cologne," Vegil moved on to my bedroom, walking slowly past me. Make yourself at home Vergil. I followed him. "He smelled like sex and alcohol." I silently threw up in my mouth. Well, from that description, I knew who had been in my house. Vergil was now surveying my room.

"Puke me." I flopped onto my bed and gave Vergil a look. "That's my closet." He glanced over at me as he leaned against the far bedroom wall. I groaned and rubbed the back of my neck. What a night.

"And you seriously think I'd be attracted to something like _that_? He was my pervert landlord." I thought about that for a moment. Another head ache was forming in the center of my forehead. "What the _hell_ was that dick doing in my house?" I bolted to my feet and started pacing.

"Do you always carry on like this?" Vergil eyed me with distaste. He paused his examination of my small room. "Your landlord was looking for something. He decided to leave before telling me what that was," Vergil was studying me now. "Where were you?"

"Hey what are you? My nanny? And how the hell did you get into my house? How did you even find out where I lived in the first place?" Vergil stared at me with a flat bouncer wall face. He _had_ told me who'd been in my house, that's pretty decent for a demon. I would know. I sighed. "I went out clubbing nearly four hours ago. You better not have been here that long," I warned him.

Vergil just shook his head, "Are you ready to go?"

"What? Go where? I just got home. And how did you know which floor I live on?"

"I said something came up," he crossed his arms over his chest annoyed. I groaned.

"Right. And how did you get into my home?" I asked him again.

"We're going whether or not you're ready," He said, still ignoring my questions. He bowed his head and momentarily closed his eyes. "I need another pair of eyes tonight."

"You're lying," I said, pushing him out of my bed room.

"Why would I lie?" Vergil asked me amused. I went over to the beau and got a new shirt.

"Because you don't just need me for another pair of eyes, if it were that simple you'd be doing it yourself," I replied, yanking the new shirt over my head. Especially after he made such a point of putting on the inferiority complex last time.

"Clever little human," he replied.

"Careful Vergil, that was almost a complement," I retorted. Damn demon, the sooner I did what he wanted the soon I could get him the hell out of my life. I straitened out my shirt and began to comb out my hair. "The real question is, are you going to tell me why you need _my_ particular eyes or not?" I waited for a response.

"You don't want to know." I yanked the curtain aside.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Vergil looked at me blandly.

"It means you're going to do what I tell you and quite questioning everything." I snorted. Yeah right.

"I'm not going to get rid of you anytime soon, am I?" I asked him.

"I would think not. If it puts your mind at ease, we're looking for an object tonight, not summoning demons across the barrier," he said. "I think you'll enjoy it a little more than the HellSmith. In either case, I need an extra pair of eyes."

"Your butler go out golfing?" I asked. I wandered into the bathroom, and tied my hair up. Vergil said nothing, but had followed me and remained in the hallway, waiting for me and ignoring me at the same time. Man he was annoying as hell. I grabbed the bottle from the bathroom counter and popped three, swallowing them dry. Head meds, got to get rid of these headaches.

"No," he said quietly, "Quite wasting my time."

"Fine," I turned off the bathroom light, "let's go." Might as well at least try to be happy, I was going to get premature wrinkles hanging around Vergil. In any case, no maggoty guy tonight, we were just looking for something…at two in the morning. Come to think of it, when _did_ Vergil sleep?

"Before we go could you answer a question for me?" Vergil looked over his shoulder at me, annoyed. "When exactly do you sleep?" I asked. He yanked my front door open without comment.

"We're leaving," he replied flatly as he headed out the door.

"I'm not going any where unless you can tell me why we're looking for whatever it is," I crossed my arms. Vergil turned and stared at me from the other side of the doorway.

"You ask too many questions," he replied.

"So says the demon," I grumbled.

"Half demon," Vergil corrected me. "The _object_ we're looking for has unknown or debatable origins. Be assured that we are not looking for anything _living_. Now move your ass." He headed down the stair way. I grabbed my jacket.

"You're positive about that?" I called to him skeptically. Vergil didn't bother replying, he was already at the first landing of the stairwell. I closed the front door and locked it, for all the good it would do, and hurried after him.


	10. Old City Museo

"We're looking for something called The Chalice of Shadows," Vergil explained to me as we zoomed along on a motorcycle. Man, when Vergil did the ride thing, he did them right. I had to hand him that at least. The bike practically screamed road rash.

"Sounds like a drinking game," I said above the roar of the wind. I had been bothering Vergil for the last fifteen minutes to get him to tell me what the heck we were doing.

"You've heard of the Holy Grail?" he asked, ignoring my banter.

"You mean, the last supper cup, from the drawing by Da Vinci, or what's his name?" I asked.

"Precisely. The Chalice of Shadows is said to be the anti-thesis of the Grail."

" 'Anti-thesis'? And that means…?"

"It's said that the Chalice of Shadows was baptized in the blood of the children birthed by the prostitutes of the world, and when ultimate good drinks virginal blood from the cup, chaos and the four horsemen will be unleashed into the world," he shifted gears, increasing speed. "It's written in the book of Revelations, more or less."

"Gross," I said. Vergil gunned the engine, running a red light. I tightened my hold on him. He was going to get me killed. "Is that why we're getting the Chalice thingy? To stop that from happening?"

"If you want," Vergil replied in a gruff voice. Okay…what's the catch? Possibly not an Order member, cuter than a friggin model, and he's trying to save the world. Vergil you're a half demon, what are you trying to do and why am I so damning important to it? Damn you demon, quite evading the damn question. Vergil said nothing for the rest of the ride. I nearly swallowed my tongue as he began to weave more closely to traffic, making the bike perform tight, near impossible turns. I held on for my life.Still what he said was unnerving. It fit with what little I knew about demons, including the ones the Order had sent.

We ended up at the old abandoned City Museum. The place looked like a grave yard. Why were we breaking into a public museum in the middle of the night? More to the point, why did we have to break into an abandoned public museum? I mean, would the Chalice be found in the new one if it was so important? And why would something that important be left behind in the first place? That was pretty sloppy of the museum curator. The marble hallways were long deserted, the stones of the building felt lonely and neglected. It felt like a brand new house you've just moved into, minus the new house smell. Now the art relics gone and I could practically feel the dust streaming around my knees.

"Um, Vergil?" I asked my voice echoing through out the room, "What exactly does this Chalice thing look like?" This was boring as hell. I dropped the butt of my cigarette on the ground and squashed it out with a twist of my heel. He glared at me over his shoulder. I don't think Vergil appreciates my cigarette addiction the way I do.

"You'll know it when you see it," he replied. He was moving slower now, examining something in a glass case.

"Is that it?" I asked, looking over his shoulder. It _was_ cup thing. Why was that even here? Man no wonder getting into museums was expensive, they were losing things.

"No." I sighed annoyed. How long was this going to take? According to my watch it was nearly three in the morning. I had to work all day tomorrow-er, today and we still had nothing. Take about a waste time. I looked further on down the hall we were in, nothing but more glass cases with left over junk in them.

"Isn't there any way to make this go faster?" I asked.

"Patience is a virtue," Vergil replied annoyed. Yeah because he had so much of it. I snorted.

"The hell it is." Then I did a running start, and locked my legs in place after I had gone fast enough. I managed a complete 360 turn on my worn out boot heels before stumbling and ending the ride short.

"Impressive for clutz. Are you finished yet?" Vergil asked flatly. I smiled at him sweetly.

"I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't so damning bored."

"I suppose even an idiot like you has to excel at something," he said non-plussed.

"I know you're jealous, but you don't have to take your frustrations out on me," I replied. Vergil didn't respond. I looked up into the star filled night sky.I wasnow in a roundglass domed roomwhere the lesser halls conjoined. The place had so many twists and turns it almost reminded me of alabryinth. It figures Vergil would drag me here.

"Just admit you're jealous," I said as I waited for him to catch up, "It's okay to admit you're bored out of your mind too." Vergil raised an eyebrow as he strode into the circular room.

"Some demons like humans with rare skills, Lauren," he replied smoothly, "if you become talented enough, perhaps your corpse will be found rotting in a dark pit of hell. I'll be sure to mourn the loss of your amazing ability then."

"Oh how sweet," I snapped back. God couldn't he take a joke? …Never mind.

A white ghostly light suddenly filled the room. In the center of the room, Vergil was crouched down over it. I scooted forward to see what he was holding. It looked like a ball of light for a few moments. Then, I couldn't tell anymore, because the light got too bright. Like bright enough to boil my eyeballs, what with the ample warning Vergil gave me. In a moment it was gone, darting down a hallway, like a bobber on a fish line.

"What was that?" I asked, blinking. White spots were dancing in my line of vision.

"A searcher." Vergil straitened up. Searcher? Hmmmm….maybe not everything in the demon world was particularly dangerous. In fact that could be down right useful…

"So we just follow the light and it leads us to the chalice?" I asked. He nodded. Why hadn't he whipped that thing out sooner? "Hey, could I have one of those for my house keys?" Vergil ignored me. Maybe he didn't think I was serious.

"There are others," he said quietly.

"Others? Like other people?" I asked mildly. "Like people who are working or something? That's odd." Wordlessly he gave me the stupid look. "Oh," I groaned, catching on. "_Great_."

"Yes, that kind of company," he replied, already walking down the hall following the light. Hadn't he said that there would be no demons? Moaning, I followed him.


	11. Cerberious

Iwas barely able to keep up with Vergil. When i did, he had stopped at the end of the hall, right as we came into another large circular room where several of the larger art halls met. christ, no wonder they had to build a new museum. What kind of sadist madethat many identical conjoining hallways outside of a cornfieldmaze? I looked around, but I didn't see the searcher lightanywhere. However, I did see the couple from the club waiting for us.

"Oh Christ," I grumbled, "not again." No way I was _that_ unlucky. Was I?

"You know _them_?" Vergil was looking at me with the mild business-pissed look again. I raised an eyebrow before lighting a cigarette. Let's see how he likes it for a change. His hand snapped out and threw it to the ground. Slowly he crushed it with his boot heel, eyeing me with razor blue eyes. I eyed the squished cigarette on the ground.Man he's freaking sadistic. What did that poor cigarette ever do to him?

"Kind of," I said annoyed, "I thought he was you. He acts like you." WHich is to say his personality isboarderlineasshole. Vergil hissed under his breath. His sword out and raised.

"Distant relations?" I guessed.Vergil flashed a smile at me like he wanted to tear my head off.

"What kind of question is that Lauren?" he asked. I shrugged smirking slightly.

"One that obviously annoyed you." I _really _want another cigarette. The not-Vergil-Vergil slowly walked towards us. He had his big sword shouldered and a smirk on his face. Behind him the blond held back, she wasn't smiling as she hefted her own sword. What is with these people and swords?

"Vergil," the guy called in a playful voice, "long time no see. I mean hell, you're like an infestation that just won't fucking die, although that seems to be a good thing for you." Vergil said nothing, but I could practically feel the air around us tightening. The back of my neck tingled like electric static. Now that was a familiar. No matter how you dressed it up, Vergil was half a demon. He gave off the same feeling a demon did. All three of them did. Nice company to be keeping at three in the morning.

"Who's your little friend?" the guy asked.

"You're the jerk from the club,"I replied.I pulled out my lighter and started playing with it. More of Vergil's hell buddies, he's a lair.

"Dante," Vergil replied in his flat voice.

"My name's Lor," I added. The woman stepped out from the shadows, her skin milky pale in the moon light. Her hair was about a good half a foot longer than mine. Now there's some dedication for you. How the hell did she manage to go to the bathroom with hair that long?

"Trish," Vergil eyed her.

"Nero," she greeted him coldly, sword gripped loosely in her hand. Oh look, another woman Vergil's pissed off. Now why am I not surprised? She even has a pet name for him, how cute.

"Fun name game," I commented. Wonder why she called him Nero.

"Come on Vergil." Dante played with his sword, whirling it around one handed. Trish, on the other hand was more cautious, remaining where she was, not taking her eyes off Vergil. "Tell me, where've you been? Death a little too grand for you?" He stopped playing with his sword, shouldering it. He eyed Vergil. "Maybe you should have stayed that way." Again Vergil said nothing. I studied the two of them, I was learning something here. I wasn't sure what though. Vergil had been dead once? Had been near dead? Whatever.

"Do we really have to do this the hard way, big brother?" Dante had a playful smirk on his face that would have been friendly if he wasn't playing with one of his guns now.

"I think gonna go have a smoke while you guys sort this out." Vergil looked over his shoulder like he was considering ways of maimingme. "I'm addicted," I said with a shrug. "And you did say there would be no demons," I pointed out, smiling sweetly. I flicked the lighter open and closed, lit and unlit, making the flame dance in my hand. "And, they _both_ have really big swords. Even I can count."

"Shut it," he told me, glaring. I gave him a look.

"I'm not sitting here and watch you slice and dice with your hell buddies," I informed him.

"Coward."

"Bite me," I replied flatly. This wasn't my problem. Not yet anyways.

"I believe I've already warned you about making such careless offers, Lauren." He replied carelessly. He started walking forward.

"That wasn't an offer!" The jerk.

"You're losing your touch, Vergil," the other guy replied, "I'm not even bleeding yet." He acknowledged me for the first time then, taking me in with a single glance. Who had I seen do that before? No way were these two _not_ related. He did a double take and stared at me, blinking.

"Human? She's a _human_?" I rubbed my temples, these people were not good for my head. He was studying me like I was a bug in a jar. God I need a cigarette. It would keep me from possibly doing something really stupid.

"Yes I'm human Einstein," I snapped.

"Pathetic," the woman said softly. She sounded amused, but her eyes were trying to dissect me. After a moment she glanced away, uninterested. So I was inferior to her too huh? Why was I wasting my time again? I wanted to sleep and this headache wasn't a good indicator. I cann't believe I let Vergil pull me away from sleep like this.

"Fuck you people," I snapped flatly. I spun on my heel and stalked off. Hell if I was sticking around for verbal abuse. I flicked out a cig and my lighter. Mmm… Cigarettes. No one made a move to stop me. They were rather busy talking amongst themselves. Not surprisingly it sounded like an old argument.

"And what the hell do you think you're doing?" Dante asked Vergil. By then his and Vergil's swords were crossed. I watched them, sucking on my cancer stick. It was kind of interesting in a way. I was half way through my cig when the ground shook. Literally.

Dust trickled down from the ceiling. What the heck was that? The tingle feeling was back at the base of my neck again, hell the hairs on my arms were standing on end. The ground shook again and this time I had trouble keeping my balance. I stumbled backward, off balance for a moment. That was one big demon. I looked over to the half-demons, apparently they had felt it too. Good. So I wasn't going insane.

"What is _that_?" I asked. The ground shook again and this time I landed on my ass. "Oww," I moaned, rubbing my tender rump. Vergil and the other guy separated as quickly as they had clashed.

"What did you do Vergil?" the other guy growled, banishing his sword. They glanced at the far wall, the only entrance that remained unused. A three headed dog, twenty feet high enter through the door. It was a demon, there was no other name for it. I never knew demons could be that big. I think I can safely rule out Order member…they didn't summon demon dogs.

"That is a really big dog." I stared at it. Gross, it was drooling…

"Never had a pet of your own sweetheart?"Trish asked me sarcastically. She was wearing a long sweeping black trench coat over her itty-bitty miniskirt and halter top. It went well with the giant gnarled steel beam she was lugging around.

"You know what? One of you was bad enough," I snapped, pushing myself up. "I never asked to have three of you on my ass." She smirked at me. The dog was striding towards us. It sniffed, growling. The three heads looked in my directions.

"Lauren," Vergil said quietly, "put out the cigarette." The other two half demons stared at me.

"You're all antismoking too," I grumbled, grinding out the cig.

"Well, I've heard of déjà vu, but I didn't think it was quite so literal at the time," Dante commented in a casual voice.

"Enough Dante," Vergil lowered his steel, but he didn't put it away I noticed. Hm…Dante and Vergil. Where had I heard those two particular names before? SomethingI had readI think, were these guys for real?"We can finish this latter. You're not going to stop me this time."

"Right, and you want me to what? Stand around and let you sacrifice your little bitch or something just as pathetic? And then come for me after that? The same old routine? Maybe you'd like to fuck up the rest of my life while you're at it." Dante stood still, the tip of his sword resting on the ground. I pulled myself up to my feet. Vergil's bitch? Excuse me?

"If I meant to do anything that drastic, you would've heard from me before now," Vergil replied. He looked to the demon. The small white light was dancing byit's head, annoying it. The blond chic shouldered her sword, and casually walked up behind Dante.

"His bitch?" I asked annoyed. They all ignored me as the demon began to growl.

"You never change, you know that?" Dante smirked, still staring at Vergil. Who smiles when they're looking at a three headed demon dog? "Fine Verg, we'll do this your way, but maybe this time you won't end up dead or killing someone important. If you're lucky that is." They both relaxed somewhat, like they had reached a consensus. What the hell was _that_ about?

"You want the left one or the right one?" Dante asked Vergil, scratching his chin. Hmm…Vergil the twin, peachy. Nicething to know thatthey both evaluated large demons like they were picking out ice-cream at the candy store. With what I had seen Verigl do, I could understand their attitudes. That didn't stop it from bugging the hell out of me. What's the fun of fighting if you're never challenged?

"Does it matter?" he asked Dante annoyed. "Don't kill Cerberus."

"What?" Dante asked him incredulous.

"It's called _restraint_," Vergil replied. He turned to me, "Lauren."

"Hell no," I cut him off taking a step back. "I don't walk dogs, and for the love of god, stop _calling_ me that."

"Would you prefer the spiders?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. I looked over my shoulder and shuddered. At least five or six different spider demons were creeping into the room on six hairy legs. I think I need to join arachnophobia anonymous. Some days you're the windshield and some days you're the bug…and those where really, really big bugs…

"What?" I asked defeated.

"The spiders…" he started, in the stupid monkey voice he seems to reserve just for me.

"No shit, Vergil. What do you want me to _do_?" I snapped.

"The chalice," he nodded his head over in the general vicinity of the three headed dog, still smirking.

"What?" I asked him flatly. I was hoping that didn't mean what I thought it meant.

"It's behind Cerberus." If he didn't stop smirking at me soon I was going to wipe that smile off his face.

"I got out of bed for this?" Dante chuckled, smirking at me.

"You're definitely human," Trish said mildly amused. I don't see what's so funny. I can't kill demons that big.

"I thought we established that," I muttered. The woman smiled at me still amused.

"So sad you're just human," she replied, "otherwise I'd enjoy sparing against you. It would be interesting to see if you could move as fast as your tongue does." The inferiority complex strikes again.

"Let's do this," Dante replied, swinging his giant sword around. The blond woman smiled, her own sword at ready.

"Try not to forget the Chalice, Lauren," Vergil replied unconcerned. I felt the muscles twitch under my eye. Vergil, you filthy lair. First he gropes me and now I'm his bitch. God must hate me.


	12. Not an Every Night Occurance

Suddenly, I found myself alone. Dante and Vergil literally charged the demon. Kamikazes. Looking behind I saw Trish contending with the spiders. She caught me staring at her.

"Get the chalice you stupid human!" Her sword sliced through a spider's thick abdomen like butter, it's entrails oozing a bright green onto the floor. Disgusting, gross and repulsive, all spiders on the world should be flushed down a toilet. Dodging forward was not the brightest idea in retrospect and here's how I figure: the demon had three heads and there were only two half-demons fighting it.

The demon reared as Dante and Vergil began their assault. Who the hell pisses off a demon that big for fun? As it fell down onto all fours again, the third head lunged at me, teeth bared. For a big guy, he moved fast. Skidding to a halt I tried to get out of the way, but the ground I was standing on buckled and rose up under the demon's weight. My worn combat boots made me land on my butt as I tried to stop the downward slide towards its maw. It was like a slipe n' slide, only at the end I'd get eaten. Oh goodie.

The demon glared at me with hungry red eyes. Oh Crap. I crashed into Vergil's boot heel. If there wasn't a hungry meat eating demon behind him, I'd break his leg for putting his boot there. Turning, he slashed the demon's nose just so as it leaned forward to bite his head off. It snarled, reeling backwards, the other heads howling with an ungodly out of tune voice. Vergil glared at me.

"Move your ass," he flatly.

"You're a fucking liar," I snapped, getting up. The dog began to flail as Vergil joined the fray again. It's feet were landing all around me as it tried to shake off those two idiots. Surviving that was worse then playing co-ed football in high school with all the maneuvering I had to pull off.

I made it to the door in one piece, more or less. It was huge, a freaking fifteen foot demon had just walked through it. How in the _hell_ was I suppose to open that? And what was with the skulls and cross bones floating over the wood like glitter? It gave off a demonic aura too. Great, Vergil wanted me to open a door that would probably eat my soul the minute I opened it. I looked over to the fighting demons. Trish had joined the fight now, and between the three of them, I didn't think the dog demon was going to last very long. The last thing I needed was for them to finish off the dog demon and start in on me for not doing my part. It's always better not to step on the toe of the foot that kicks harder than the rest and I was pretty sure I wouldn't walk again if all three of them consecutively kicked me.

"Give me a break," I groaned, sizing up the doors. It would be a miracle if I got one door open let alone both. I put my entire body weight into it, pushing against the smooth dark wood. The damn thing barely budged. It took me a minute of grunting and swearing to get the door to open and I was just able to slip through the skin tight opening before it slammed shut again. Panting I leaned against the door, trying to catch my breath. Doing this drunk was not a good idea. I groaned when I saw the circling stone stairs. You'd think there'd be an elevator or something a bit more handicap friendly. Or at least drunken friendly.

I took the stairs two at a time. At the top there was another circular room with a glass dome ceiling. In the middle of the room a goblet rested on a stone alter. Well Vergil was right, there was a chalice, but there were about a six more of them littered through out various places in the room, each on their own little alters too. Way to be specific, there Vergil boy. At least I knew that the weirdest looking one was the right one. I don't know how I knew,I just did. I picked it because it had a demon aura all on it's own. The others didn't. Only this one was unique. It almost felt like the chalice had been waiting for me, and just me. Like it was whispering in a voice all it own. Telling me of all it's secrets, telling me everything I needed to know. Telling me I needed it as much as it needed me. The chalice was ready to fulfill the role destiny had allotted for it. Whether or not it would fulfill the role it had in my life was yet to be seen, yet I needed it. I shook my head, clearing it. What the _hell_ had that been about? Damn you Vergil.

"I really need a cigarette," I grumbled out loud as I picked up the red and black stone chalice. It didn't look like anything special. It looked like the crap you could buy at the dollar store. As I picked it up, hell broke loose. Again. Man that was starting to get old.

Skeletons with scythes and other various blades strung up out of the gound. Goddammit, what was with demons and the ground? Vergil was going to hear me bitch till I was blue in the face if I had my way. I had _not_ wanted to do this tonight. Carefully I set the chalice back down on the pedistal. I shrugged off my jacket and put it next to chalice along with my cigs. I didn't want them getting sliced up in the fight, cigarettes are expensive. I could tell this was going to be interesting, already the demons were swarming like a plaque.

Marionettes, I remembered suddenly. I could practically see her face as she showed them to me, lurking in the darkness of the ally way. Behind her Sion hadn't looked too pleased, but he made no comment. Not even when he had to carry my limp hurt body back inside. They were all marionettes, lower ranking demons I remembered. They moved slow but one shouldn't underestimate them for that fact. The usual conventional fighting techniques were pretty effective against them. I sighed and took up a defensive stance.

Already I knew I was going to be sore tomorrow. I hadn't fought in a couple of months, let alone stretched like I should have been doing. I'd been too busy drinking. Vergil, old buddy old pal, I could give you a point for letting be beat the crap out of lifeless dolls. Especially now that I'm so much more pissed at you for lying in the first place. I cracked my neck. However much he annoyed me, I was still going to have a blast tearing these demons to shreds.


	13. Cup of Marrionettes

'Alloo! This chapter's not much in the way of plot development, but it is a fun little action sequence with Lauren venting some rage on guilty marrionettes and mouthing off among other things. I decided to try something new, let me know how it goes. enjoy!

* * *

"Vergil, it's a wall," Dante said in a board voice. Vergil ignoredhim and concentrated on the door. Now that was odd. What made that human so special? She shouldn't have been able to cross through the barrier of the door on her own, yet some how she'd managed. As far as he was aware, Lauren wasn't a construct like Lucia, but her aura was so demonic it was unnatural. This made it slightly unnerving. There was a story behind that…but for now he only had what providence had provided him with, as useless and annoying as she was turning out to be.

"Is that what you see?" he asked his brother softly. No doubt about it, that damning human girl's aura was right behind the door.

"It's a wall," Dante said again, "Trish?" The woman shook her head. She walked forward and just before she crossed the threshold, she stopped. Slowly she put her hand up and waved it around.

"There's something there," She said. "I can feel a breeze on my hand, slight demonic auras as well. Marionette I think."

"It's a barrier," Vergil replied, "designed to fool anyone who doesn't know the secrets to pass through."

"Well that would certainly be your area of expertise," Dante replied wryly.

"So how can she move through it?" Trish asked, nodding her head towards the barrier.

"The Hellsmith," Vergil shrugged. It was as good as any explanation he could think of. For all he knew, it might have been the truth.

"The Hellsmith? You brought her before the Hellsmith?" Dante looked at his brother with disgust.

"You took a mortal before the Hellsmith," Trish murmured. She bowed her head, "No wonder the sight of demons sets her off."

"Are you completely heartless?" Dante asked Vergil. He didn't bother replying. Dante snorted. "What the hell are you planning Vergil?"

"She's human and she's in there all alone with a lot of demons," Vergil replied. "That's a little bit more important right now. Wouldn't you say, little brother?"

The floor was rough and uneven under my boots, it wasn't shiny like the museum floor I had just surfed on, not any more anyways. Damn, the things were multiplying like bunnies. I had moved closer to them, and for the most part they hadn't attacked in any surprising manner yet. I'd been able to predict everything they'd thrown at me.

I looked over to the modest cup. It certainly wasn't a wine glass misplaced from the high-flutin' city parties, so why was it so important? Hmm…another loophole Vergil conveniently forgot to fill. All he said was that he needed it or more demons would roam around, nothing specific to go on. Damn him.

"Vergil, now would be a good time to show up," I muttered under my breath. The things were lurching towards me. I smiled sweetly for them.

"I don't suppose a heartfelt apology is going to make you maggots go away?" I asked the nearest skeleton. It lunged at me in response. Well that had been quick. I shifted my weight, dodging the blade by a couple of inches as I spun on my heel. Quickly I brought up a boot and round-housed my heel into it's face. Turing, I tucked into a roll just before another friendly skeleton tried to cut my head off.

"Come on, boys," I sneered at them. "Pathetic." Then it was a frenzy of movement. Reaching out I twisted the marionette's head off, snapping boney wooden spinal column. I drop kicked it into another marionette, taking two out in the process. They honestly didn't see that coming?

Searing fire laced it's way across my back. Stumbling, I saw the bastard had snuck up on me. I needed some place I could easily guard and defend. I eyed the pedestal in the middle of the room. Bingo. So long as my jacket was still in one piece when I was done with these guys.

Frog jumping over another marionette, I leapt onto the dais. Much better. The first one came forward. Arching my leg high above my head I brought my heel down, letting crash into the marionette's skull with enough momentum to lash out into a back kick that took out another sneaking bastard. Kou would have been proud of me if he had seen it. Screaming, a bloody mari sunk it's twin blades into the stone pedestal, missing my toes by a fraction of an inch.

"Fuck off," I growled. Reaching down I grasped it beneath the jaw bone and heaved it over my shoulder. It flew into the far wall, collapsing two others like bowling pins, the bottom jaw snapping off in the palm of my hand. Jesus where were they all coming from? The dais was surrounded on all sides. I back flipped off, my muscles screaming in the process. Five different types of blades embedded the pedestal. Goddammit! My jacket and cigs! It had definitely been time to get the hell out of there, but jesus Christ they just took out my freaking jacket. Oh how those mothers will pay.

Taking a small jump forward, I did a forward thrust kick into another marionette's stomach area, crushing it's empty rib cage. Why the hell weren't they dropping? I was getting tired, especially with that little flipping stunt I had pulled. It didn't help that I was out of shape. I couldn't really hit the bastards either, I'd cut my fists open learning that the hard way. Suddenly the world went spinning in a confusion of sound and colors.

Blindsided, the jerks, sneaking around behind me again. The bastard nailed me in the right temple too. It took me down like a sack of rocks. I gritted my teeth together against the sudden pounding pain. I lived through the next couple of minuets, barely though. I got a hell of a lot of cuts and I lost a sleave to my shirt. And I had been doing so well.

After doing a full circuit of the room, I ended up having my ass thrown right back where I had started. My head, those bastards wouldn't be walking all over me if they'd hit me anywhere but there. I stumbled backward, falling against the dais. My head made a sick wet sound as it hit stone. My vision was starting to go fuzzy. Not good. One of the skeletons sauntered up to me, raising it's huge skyth in the process. The marionette hesitated, looking down at me with ember red eyes. I swear it was smirking at me.

"Come on you bitch," I hissed at it, "don't be such a pussy." It lowered it's scythe and looked to the ceiling. What the hell? In a moment glass shards where flying everywhere. Three figures came falling down from the sky, landing in a triangle around me. Stunned the marionette hit the ground in front of me. I shook the glass shards out of my hair.

"Hey you're still alive," Trish greeted me. "That's pretty good for a whinny human. What's your name kid?" I could barely hear her over the din of the skeleton demons, but excuse me, did she just call me a _kid_?

"Fuck you," I snapped. Reaching forward I snapped the marionette's neck easily, letting it drop in between my outspread legs. "I'm fucking twenty one years old. What the hell is wrong with you people?" Dante chuckled, eyeing my handiwork.

"Are you done yet?" Vergil asked me.

"Don't you dare start," I snapped at him, "Or I'm gonna take the chalice and stick it where the sun don't-"

"You have it?" Vergil interrupted me.

"Over there sunshine," I growled, pointing to my shredded stuff. I shot to my feet. "My jacket is ruined and you think I was sitting here having tea?" The marionette that had thrown me into the center of the room staggered towards us. I drove a bloody knuckled fist into it's face hard enough to snap it's neck. The skeleton dropped away to ashes. Serves him right, the sneaky jerk. Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Quit being difficult," he replied, returning his attention on the swarming hoard of skeleton things.

"Hey kid," the blond said, "you ready to get out of here?"

"The name's Lor," I snapped back. "I'm not a freaking kid!"

"Name's Trish," she replied with a slight smirk, "though I'm sure you heard that before."

"Trish make friends later okay?" Dante asked her.

"Right, let's go," Trish shouted over the roar of the clashing blades. After one glance at the two bong brothers, I followed her.


	14. Harpy Harpy

She set a hard pace to follow. We were nearly out of that damning hell hole when we were stopped dead in our tracks. Really, it was the front hall Vergil and I had come in through. I could see his cycle through one of the windows parked next to two other motorcycles. They must've been Dante's and Trish's. I've never been so relieved to see a motorcycle before. But like I said before, there was a slight problem, more Marionettes were waiting for us. On the plus side I didn't see any spider demons.

"I'll stall them. You get out of here and whatever you do," Trish hissed to me, "don't let them get the Chalice."

"I'm human, not stupid," I retorted. She smiled for the first time that night.

"I like you kid." Then she was off, whirling and slashing through the forest of animated dolls.

Kid? Again? _C'mon_ people. I bolted for the door and fell over my own feet. Graceful as a hippo in jello. The only difference between a hippo and me in that moment was that the hippo wasn't looking at a blade sunk three inches into marble about a half a foot from it's head. I was up on my feet and surrounded in equal amounts of time. I was getting pretty damning sick of that grinning jester face. Their eyes were gross too. Empty red glowing sockets, that burned like dying embers do with none of the warmth. Talk about false advertisement.

One wound up to swing it's blade at me. Whatever, I wasn't that tired yet. The next three aimed at me were misses too. I retaliated by lashing out with my left foot. I dodged two more blows meant for me-they came uncomfortably close- and made another break for it.

Everything around me was utter chaos. Trish was sending these things flying left and right. Nice to know she knew how to use her gnarled metal beam of death as good as Vergil did. The sound of her battling was deafening, with her monstrous sword clashing, bashing, slashing, and crashing. Maybe I should consider getting myself one of those. The crunch of marionette bones was sickening after a few moments of Trish working, the air smelled faintly of burnt wood. I was barely able to dodge another body tossed by Trish when I was sucker punched. It felt like I had hit a concrete wall.

Wheezing, I dropped to the ground, holding the cup as close to me as possible. I looked up expecting the end. My life was finished. I was going to be killed by a lower-class demon before I ever got a chance to see France. The bloody fucking irony of it all was killing me. At least the stupid doll things would have to hack my body apart in order to get the stupid Chalice. I stared up into the face of the thing that wanted to kill me.

What the hell? OH GOD, was it possible? It was the damning harpy Bitch! Wasn't last time enough? Goddammit! I had to get out of here. The marionettes were attracted to this stupid thing like flies where to honey.

"The pretty little human girl. You're Vergil's, aren't you. Am I right, aren't I?" she purred like a kitten. I wasn't fooled. "Of course you are, and here you were going to leave Trish to do all this work by herself," she continued. She was wearing jeans and a tan corduroy jacket with fur on it today. Her furry, high heeled boots rose to her knees. Figures, another perfectly groomed, friendly welcome wagon for the human partner of Vergil. God, how had he manage to piss off so many different women? Ah, whatever, the feathers matched nicely with the twin swords at her hips. She lifted me up above her head using my neck as a handle. Again. I'm starting to get pretty sick of that.

"I don't believe that will be happening, pretty little girl," she said calmly. She smiled at me, and slowly her feathers fell off, revealing a very human looking face. Underneath, her skin was smooth and flawless, tanned to perfection. Goddammit, why did she have to look like a super model too? Life is so unfair; all the half-breeds look like goddamming super models. That aside, she was actually quite beautiful, what with the non-feathery face and cute Acadian-French accent.

Trying to catch my breath, I gave her the finger. She smiled at me sweetly then, her green eyes cold as she threw me into a marble column. Everything went black after that, but before it did, I realized I was still holding the Chalice.


	15. Mission Complete

I woke up with a throbbing head ache, which is an understatement, and about a thousand and two separate tiny bumps, cuts, and bruises. There were literally piles of marionette body parts tossed all around, slowly falling to bone ash. The whole place smelled bad and it hurt to move my neck. At least I was still holding the Chalice. The stupid freaking Chalice of the underworld. I'm in this much pain for a three dollar, tacky wine glass?

I groaned and tried to sit up. It was do-able, though it was a lengthy process. Was I going to be sore tomorrow, I could already feel my muscles screaming at me. I hear a faint buzz of people talking off somewhere. Slowly I stood up and followed my ringing ears, still a little wobbly on my feet. It didn't help that the world kept shifting from left to right.

"What do you mean, you don't remember? She was holding the Chalice of the Underworld." Trish's voice. She sounded angry, or something, exasperated, I think. "That's a little hard to miss."

"How was I suppose to know that? The last time I saw her she was with Vergil," some other chic's voice. _Her_ voice sounded disgusted. Wait a minute…was that who I thought it was?

"So you murdered her?" Vergil's voice, flat and emotionless as usual. A complete stranger was more concerned over my fate than somebody I knew. Go figure. My real question: if he wasn't an Order member, why did Vergil hate humans and how 'weak' they were? "Or rather, you knocked her out, so she'd be defenseless and then abandoned her. She was holding an artifact I've been looking for a long time," Vergil continued. Someone muttered something I didn't quiet make out. "It's the same thing to her, she's _human_." I think I was just insulted. Again.

"I hate to agree with Vergil, but that was pretty shitty thing to do, Lucia," Dante's voice this time. His name had been Dante right? "Even so, she's only human, no matter the company she keeps. You shouldn't have just abandoned her. Not to mention we're doubly fucked if she was taken into hell with the blasted cup." I turned around a corner. There they were, well at least my ears still worked, even if my brain might not anymore. They were all standing around arguing or something.

"No shit," I agreed.

"You're alive," Trish said, "We thought you were dead." I glared at the red haired bird chic I so definitely recognized.

"Well, maybe if cherry bitch over there had hit me just a little harder y'all would've been a bit more lucky," I growled. I tossed the cup to Vergil, "Take your fucking hazard." Vergil caught it gracefully, and examined it, turning it over in his hands.

"What did you just call me?" The red head, she must've been Lucia, took a step towards me. I turned to face her.

"I called you," I said slowly and clearly, "a cherry red bitch." She took another threatening step towards me. I ignored her and flopped down on the ground. Mostly because I couldn't keep my balance any longer. My head hurt and now I was getting a whole lot of pain from other places. Right on time to remind me how much life sucked. Wonderful.

"This has been a blast and everything, but can I go home now?" I asked Vergil. My head hurt so much. I put a hand to the back of my skull and it came away red. "I think I'm bleeding." The world had begun to spin even though I was sitting. Vergil stopped examining his cup to examine me instead. I bet he always got first place at science fairs when he was a kid.

"Here, hold still," Trish walked towards me, holding a glowing thing in her hand. "Close your eyes for a couple of minuets." When she pulled away, the world had ceased spinning, and the sharp throb at the base of my brain had dulled to a slight head ache. I looked at the area around us. Marionette bodies littered the ground by the thousands. What the hell had I missed? Vergil went back to examining his after-party treat, uninterested again.

"What was that?" I asked touching the back of my head gently. No more bleeding. Even my arms and legs which had been pulsing with pain felt better. "That was better than drugs."

"It's a yellow orb, I wasn't sure if it'd work on you. We usually use yellow orbs for healing," Trish explained with a faint smile.

"Nice," I replied, flexing my fingers. The knuckles were smooth and healed, no scarring. Very nice. Even the fire burning across my back was gone. Not the head ache though. I'm not complaining though, two outta three ain't bad.

"You're working with Vergil and you've never seen a yellow orb before?" Lucia asked suspiciously. I continued to ignore her.

"That figures," Dante muttered. "Hey Verg, can you stop fondling the cup so we can get the hell out of here?"

"I second that," I nudged Vergil with my foot. Vergil looked down at me. His clothes were torn, but other wise he still looked to die for. So did Dante and Trish, and even that assuming bitch Lucia. Was I the only one who looked like crap?

"You trust me with this?" Vergil looked up to Dante and Trish.

"No," Lucia answered. This time, we all ignored her.

"No, but I figure I'll always know were to find you and the cup if I need to," Dante twirled a gun in his right hand. It was orient looking, like Vergil's gun. Sister guns? He had another gun holstered, one of darker metal but the same kind of design. I don't like guns, but these ones were interesting looking.

"You have sister guns?" I asked him.

"Quick eye," Dante gave me a hand up.

"That and a quick mouth are really all I have going for me," I replied as I dusted my pants off. Dante just nodded his head in agreement and turned to leave. My pants were filthy with bone ash. It wasn't coming out, plus there was a myriad of hairline cuts in them as well.

"You owe me a new outfit," I told Vergil, "and a new jacket." He was still fondling his cup, I think he purposely ignored me that time. Dante had a point. I sighed and rolled my eyes skyward. Trish winked at me as she turned to leave.

"So that's it? They just walk off with the chalice? You're not even going to stop them?" Lucia demanded of Dante. He paused walking for a moment, looked over his shoulder at her, and then continued to leave. Wasn't she a huffy one. I was a _they_ now. Well that was an upgrade from a wrecking ball.

"Yes, I do," Vergil replied. He tossed the cup to me. I nearly dropped the damn thing. It has to have bad karma or something.

"I don't want this," I groaned, but Vergil was already leaving. I followed him, ignoring the red haired chick's homicidal look. Good thing I was going home, I think I need to get drunk again before I go to work.


	16. Chalice Tag

Vergil drove, but otherwise didn't say a word to me. Can't say I was enjoying the motorcycle ride at five in the morning. By the time we pulled up to my apartment I couldn't feel my fingers and I was yawning. I know I was trashed. My cigarette nearly burned my fingers on the four flights up. Vergil must've had a lot on his mind, that guy Dante seemed to sap what little conversation he normally had. That's the only way I can rationalize walking into my apartment, and getting ready for bed, before either Vergil or I realized that I had brought the Chalice with me.

By the time Vergil came to claim it, I had collapsed on my couch, curled up with Gram, my teddy bear. I hadn't even bothered turning off the lights. Hell, I thought he was there to collect rent when the knock came at the door, I was so far gone. So like an idiot I answered the door in my pajamas. Again. Yeah, I know, intelligent.

"What?" I asked him grumpily, as I yanked the door open. I yawned, scruffing up my hair. "I already paid rent."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not here to collect rent," Vergil replied. He was studying my outfit with a raised eyebrow.

"Geez," I finally woke up. I was wearing an t-shirt with cartoon frogs on it and my underwear. And that was it...damn. I pulled my robe close, tying the belt. "What are _you_ doing here?" I asked annoyed. A pathetic stab at dignity.

"The Chalice," Vergil replied flatly, "you took it with you."

"Huh?" It took a moment for that to sink in. "Did I?" I sighed. My brain was turning into jell-o, worry #152 to add to my growing list. "Come in, I'll try to find it." I headed for my closet and began to search the pile of clothing on the floor. Vergil quietly closed the door behind himself.

"Take a seat or something, this might take a while," I yawned. Vergil looked around.

"How could you lose something in here?" I snorted. Ultimately, he was right, my place was small and dingy and almost pathetically bare. Still I lived here, he didn't need to go about dissing it.

"Quite yer bitching," I grumbled. I was going through the clothing pile in my closet. I ended up finding it in the bathroom. The chalice was resting on the floor next to my dirty cloths on the bathroom floor. It better not stain the floor a malevolent black color or something like that.

Passing the mirror I caught a glimpse of myself. My throat was totally hicky-ville. It had a dull ache to it too, not to mention the slightly unbearable head ache… The bruises on my wrist were yellowish in comparison to the fresh new ones on my throat. Wasn't bruising like this unhealthy or something?

"Do you have it?" Vergil called.

"Hmm? Yeah," I grabbed the cup. "Here."

"Thanks," he took it, turning it over and over in his hands. I rubbed my eyes. Vergil? Thanking me? Was he ill? Dropping his hands to his sides, he turned to the couch, "Is that your teddy bear?" I was pretty sure he was laughing at me again. Dammit, I was so not in the mood for this. If he was going to be a jerk, well, two could play at that game.

"Why does your brother wanna kill you?" I asked him coolly. I crossed my pathetic excuse for a living room and scooped up Gram. After eight years, he's falling apart, not to mention he needs an eye transplant. I sat down on the couch, folding my legs, and waited expectantly. Vergil sighed. I would almost go as far to say that I heard weariness in that sigh. But like everything Vergil expressed, it was only there for a moment before disappearing and being replaced with a guarded stare.

"Touché. Twin."

"I hadn't noticed," I replied, holding back another yawn. "This is Gram." I held the teddy bear up before folding him into my arms. I'm very protective of my stuffed bed buddy, wouldn't want a demon to chew him up. "Anyways, what happens next?"

"Next?" He asked mildly, raising an eyebrow. Hark, do I smell surprise? Better press my luck.

"Yeah," I said, "you know. First we met the Hellsmith, and then we get the chalice. What's next, the poncho of the virgin of Guadalupe?" Vergil didn't say anything, but he crossed the room and looked out the window onto the city.

"You really want me to confirm that?" He was quiet. Way too quiet for my comfort. Damn him.

"I just want to know if I should expect running for my life from Lucia anytime soon," I yawned.

"I wouldn't worry about Lucia," Vergil replied. "As for these fun little excursions, I'll explain latter. It's late, if I recall, you need your sleep. You work tomorrow, correct?" Crap, work. I groaned.

" 'Tch, fine. Next time though, you better not _lie_ to me." He shook his head and said nothing. I stood up. "See you when I see you, yeah?" Vergil didn't say anything as he headed to the door.

"Take care," I told him as he left. He didn't bother replying before taking off. Locking the door, I extinguished the lights and crawled up into bed with Gram. I was asleep instantly.

The dreamer wakes and often wonders what it is they see when they dream. I dreamed of a man in white with hands of razors. He was etching a secret into my body, into my flesh. The secret was warm and intoxicating, lulling my pained mind with the false promise of security that as it tingled, spreading like cancer, only the secret could provide. Maybe that was the secret, but I know, in my dreamer's heart of hearts, with that certain sense of _knowing _that only dreamers have, that I already held the secret. That was why a new one was being given to me, the razor hand man in white wanted my secret, and he would get it. It was all a matter of wills, and his sickly intoxicating secret was far more stronger than that of the bonds of flesh. In the end I woke up sweating and wanting to puke. I haven't had a dream like that since I was seven. Curling into a ball, I held Gram close, knowing I wouldn't find anymore sleep that night.

Dante Sparda was also awake that night. He wasn't alone, in that respect, as at night his memories often came back to haunt him. Strangely, he never could be alone, weather or not he knew it. Trish was there and weather or not he willed it, she had vowed that she would always be there, a shadow-or perhaps a light-to whatever Dante chose to be.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," Trish commented. She was sitting lopsided on the overstuffed leather chair in front of the television. So far there hadn't been any reports of the night's ventures in the news. Trish was willing to bet it wouldn't be until a day or two before anything was mentioned. A demon that large running around in the city…well there'd be a big pay check out of it at the very least. Still, the quiet of the place tonight was…unusual. Then again so was Vergil popping up out of the blue, especially when Dante had seen him dead two years ago on Mallet Island. To say it had affected him would be an understatement.

For his part, Dante said nothing. He was seated at his desk feet up, chair leaned back. Ebony lay in pieces as Ivory was currently being put together again for the third time that night since. He'd been withdrawn since they had returned from their little adventure.

"Since when has Vergil ever required a partner before? When has he ever required a human partner?" Trish asked casually. Still Dante said nothing. Inwardly, Trish cringed, or at the very least felt a longing of sorts. It was a deep rooted longing to help in some way that wasn't entirely unfamiliar to her, just unwelcome for the most part, as it rarely passed the way she willed it to.

"Since never," Dante replied. He snapped a full clip into place and began Ebony's reconstruction. "Vergil harbors no love for mortals. At least he didn't the last two times we met."

"Where do you think he's been? I thought…" Trish paused groping for the words, "I thought you…killed him, two years ago, on Mallet Island."

"Evidently not," Dante's voice was flat. Trish briefly closed her eyes. Standing up she snapped the television off. Dante never looked up from his work.

"Dante, you know maybe he's changed. You shouldn't dismiss the possibility. After all, I'm here." Trish came over and ran her fingers through Dante's hair, savoring the texture and feel. "The underworld does wonders to change one's views on life."

"Oh I know he's changed, Trish," Dante sighed. "He had so many opportunities he didn't use, but at the same time, I still cann't bring myself to trust him. He's done so much…I don't think things are going to go back to the way they were before. I know they won't. You can bet Vergil is up to something, he only shows up when he's about to unleash hell." Trish rested her chin on Dante's shoulder.

"Come, let's to bed. Sleep on the matter, Dante," Trish whispered into his ear, a faint smile spread across her lips. "Forget, if only for a while, there will always be time to ponder this latter." If there was one thing a half breed had, it was time to ponder. Dante snapped a clip into Ebony.

"Alright, babe, you win," Dante tossed Ebony onto the desk. Standing up the pair left the room. Ebony and Ivory laid abandoned on the desk that had once belonged to the Dark Knight Sparda.


	17. Enter Tiffany

Okay people, another slow down in the action, but it's plot nessicary. Aren't life altering situations so dramatic? Nope not the way I write them. lol Enough talkie, more reading. Enjoy!

* * *

The next time I saw Vergil would be three weeks later. For three blessed weeks, my life went on like it always had. Finally, normalcy with no hint of the craziness from before, save for the slow healing bruises.

At the end of the second week I dropped in on Tiffany. I was actually invited by phone for a change, at one in the afternoon, at work. (Kat's Flowers, part time job #62.) Tiffany didn't sound like herself on the phone and she never calls me at work. So after my shift was over I hopped a bus to her side of town. By then, I was expecting her house to be burning down over run with demons.

I knocked on the front door and waited, shifting my weight from foot to foot impatiently. I was still expecting demons to come out and eat my head off. What was I suppose to think with weird scratching on the door frame? I brushed it off. No doubt Tiffany was paying homage to some Wicca goddess or something. She was a strong believer in the spiritual world. Her faith makes me sick sometimes.

There are no churches for me, I don't do religion. Just as I don't believe in god. Period. I've seen way too much of hell to believe in god. I guess in a way, Tiffany's absolute faith scares me. The door was unlocked when I tried it a couple seconds latter. Not a good sign. She always locked the front door.

"Tiffany?" I called. The thousands of candles still cluttering up her living room and kitchen like usual, but this time they were unlit. I chose to view as a good thing that she wasn't intending to burn the house down. "Hey, Tiff, it's me. Are you here?"

"Up here," Tiffany's voice sounded weaker than it had on the phone. It sounded like she had been crying. Shit, I had a bad feeling about this. What the hell happened? Anyone stupid enough to fuck with my family is asking for it. Was it the Order? Was it demons? I took the stairs two at a time and found Tiffany sitting on the bathroom floor. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red and puffy, meaning she'd been crying earlier.

"Tiff, what's wrong?" I asked. I knelt down beside her. It took a while for her to tell me, because she started crying as soon as she saw me. It was getting annoying having to listen to her blubbering when I could be out kicking someone's ass for this.

"Tiffany, Tiffany, calm down. Stop crying. Tell me what's wrong," I told her as I wiped away her tears. Shit, shit, shit. Where was Josh? Why wouldn't she just tell me what the hell her problem was? I reached for a cigarette and lit up once Tiffany started calming down. "You have to stop crying, hon," I told her. Shuddering, Tiffany finally managed to get enough control over herself.

"Lor, its….I wasn't sure at first…I mean…I had this feeling," Tiffany broke off to sob a little more, and I could do nothing but wait till she was done and ask the usual stupid questions that never do anyone any good. Waiting sucks. I was hoping it wasn't the Order.

"What feeling? You weren't sure about what?" Like I was really doing any good asking stupid questions, it was pissing me off to be so helpless.

"It's on the counter, both of them," She broke down and cried again. Must not be the Order then…Geeeeeezzzzuuuussssss. I looked over to the bathroom counter, there were two blue rings floating in cups of yellow liquid. Was that….what I thought it was? Well that was a relief. This you could deal with one step at a time, with the Order it was kinda like trying not to drown in a vat of oil.

"Are those pregnancy tests?" I asked her, sucking on my cigarette. She didn't say anything, but she did manage a nod between shuddering and crying.

"You're pregnant?" I asked her. I felt a smirk wind it's way across my face. She didn't say anything. "Are you?" I asked her again. "Pregnant?" That cigarette was doing me wonders right now.

"No I'm stoned!" she finally snapped at me. I knew the smirk would piss her off. "Yes I'm pregnant! What do you think those are? Stop smirking at me dammit! Lor what am I going to do?" she cried. "I can't have a kid. I'm not," she shuddered and her voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm not even married."

"So?" I asked shrugging. "What does that have anything to do with it?"

"You idiot! I haven't told Josh yet! What if he doesn't want it? What if he doesn't want me? What if he goes away because of this? Lor I can't take care of this _thing_ by myself." Tiffany cried. She sounded like the world was caving in on her.

I hate it when Tiffany acts like this, it makes her seem so vulnerable, and she's just not that type of person. She's a strong broad, but that doesn't mean much in the long run, I guess. Even the strongest people got to frown some time, but Tiffany didn't even get the opportunity to smile over the good stuff. Still, here I was sitting next to her in my ugly pink work shirt unable to do anything to help. God certainly has a crappy sense of humor. Reason number three for my enduring hate for Him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked her. "Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake." She looked at me surprised. I stood up and brushed off my pants. "_Think_, would you? Have you told Josh about…you're being pregnant yet?"

"No," she moaned. I think I was scaring her. I took a deep breath to control my irritation.

"Then how do you know what Josh will say? Hmm?" She didn't reply. I snorted. "You don't. Look, I don't mean to yell, but how do you think you know all this? For all you know, Josh'll want the kid. What I can't understand is why you're not happy." I pulled on my cig and smiled at her. "I'm ecstatic for you, even though I know you can't really tell right now. I want to be the God Mother," I added.

"But what'll I do if Josh doesn't stay?" she asked me, her eyes were wide and wet with tears. I pulled her to her feet.

"Well, I'm here. Besides, if Josh doesn't stick around, I can personally make his life a living hell," I helped her up. "Now straiten yourself out. I'll brew you up some hot water for tea." I left Tiffany in the bathroom with the rings in the cups, and headed downstairs.

Hmm…I was going to be a godmother. I hope it's a girl. I wouldn't mind if it was a boy, though. I wouldn't tell anyone but I think babies are seriously cute. Last I heard, making them was kinda fun too. Ten minutes later, Tiffany was downstairs, a tiny bit better looking and she had regained her emotional control. That was the rock steady bitch I knew best. By then the water was nearly boiling.

"Sit down, the water is almost ready," I said. I busied myself with filling the cups and seeping tea baggies into the water.

"Where have you been lately, Lor?" Tiffany asked me quietly. Her voice was rough and quiet for someone who had just been pissing in her own soup a moment before. Strong Tiffany had definitely returned. Strong Tiffany who was usually the one to bail my ass out of the fire, and always knew how to get rid of a hangover or unwanted attention, or a number of hazardous things I always managed to get myself into.

"What?" I asked her. "What tipped you off this time?"

"Demons," She said, seeping her own tea baggy, not looking at me. "You smell like them. I will not have demons in my house Lor." It must've been those markings on the door frame. How long had Tiffany been experimenting with this religion any way?

"Hmmm," I said, smiling at her, "it's not like I really had a choice in the matter. You want the whole story?" I sat cross legged in the uncomfortable wooden chair. Tiffany sighed.

"Speak, and we'll compare notes." So I sat and I told her about Vergil, Trish, Dante, and even Lucia. I didn't tell her about Cerberious or the hellsmith, it would've set her off. Tiff hates demons more than I do.

"You're the most stupid girl I know," Tiffany said after I finished. "While you're cavorting around with demons, did it ever occur to you that they might not care if you die?"

"Half demon," I corrected her, "and um…yeah…that definitely occurred to me."

"This better not be like before Lor. You almost died last time," she said quietly, sipping her tea.

"It won't be," I sighed. "I don't think they're going to blind side me."

"And if they do?" I rubbed my bruised neck. It had defiantly been a good choice to omit the part about the hellsmith.

"There's no reason for them to do that. There's no motivation for it." Not that Lucia had particularly needed one.

"Dammit, Lor these are demons you're screwing around with, not the fey. They betray you and you're dead this time. You get that? Dead. Not in a hospital eating out of a tube for a month, but dead. Cut, dried, and six feet under."

"Geez cut mommy act already, I get it," I groaned. My head was starting to hurt again. She was right though, if they decided I wasn't important and I was dead. That's usually the way it was non-human beings, demons in particular. It was a lullaby by heart, in more ways than one.

"I'll stop the mommy act when I know you can take care of yourself," she replied flatly. "Or have you forgotten that I was the one who saved you last time?"

"I don't forget Tiff," I replied flatly. She should know better than to say something like that. "Either way, there's not much I can do about it. Vergil said I was going to be his partner for a few months and he's hard to turn down. I don't know how, but he pops up when he feels like it and I don't really have anyway of getting a hold of him. And even if I could, he wouldn't take no for an answer." And I _really_ don't want to deal with spider demons on my own.

"You telling me he knows were you live?" Tiffany asked me faintly. I chuckled and scratched my head. She was going to kill me if I said any more. At least I hadn't told her about Vergil's habit of letting himself in.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, Tiff," I replied. "Mostly it's boring as hell hanging out with him. I liked hanging out with Lady Mary a lot more." I tapped away cig ashes onto the tea cup saucer.

"Aright, help him if you have to. But Lauren? Any sign of the Order and you get out no matter what."

"Yeah I'm not that stupid. So far, I haven't seen any Order members," I replied.

"Good. If-and I hope for your sake I don't have to do this-you aren't home and your house looks like its been abandoned for as long as I've been calling, then I get a hold of your demon friends and we get to have a chat for a while. Fair?" I smiled. That was assuming she could find Vergil. It would be entertaining to see her and Vergil get along. He thought I was difficult, at least I don't mentally burn things when I get pissed.

"Fine, on the condition that you _tell_ Josh about the baby first chance you get." I chuckled when she gave me a dirty look. We make a good pair, Tiffany and I.

"Josh is out of town on a business trip, he'll be back in a week and half. I'll tell him when he gets back. You better take care of yourself until then, understood?" Tiffany lifted her mug up and took a sip of it. Her eyes were flashing a hidden message to me. A warning really. I only wish I knew what it was for.

"Understood," I lied as I took a sip of my own tea.


	18. The Shade Man

And now we find out why Lauren's Land Lord is a creepy perv. Warning: It gets a little violent and adultish themed... consider yourself warned.

* * *

Everything was changing so fast, pretty soon I'd need to get drunk just to keep up or fall off for good. When I got home the lights were on. I knew for a fact that I had left them off. Vergil, you jerk. He and I were going to have a talk about privacy issues. Sure enough the door was wide open. I rolled my eyes as I walked into my kitchen. Did Vergil care about anything else but what_ he_ needed? 

"Hey Vergil, where are you here?" I called. Odd. The place looked empty. Maybe he was in the bathroom or maybe…he sure as hell better not be in my bedroom.

"Vergil? Hello? Even you aren't that deaf." Nobody. No one sitting on the couch, no one in the kitchen, the bathroom was dark and unused, there was no one in my bedroom. I looked up at the ceiling window, it was closed and locked. "What the hell?" I muttered to myself. Maybe I really had left my home open…Gram was still sleeping on the couch. "Gram," I asked, "did I really leave lights on?" If so, I was really losing it. I reached for him.

Blindsided, hit mid-back and tackled to the ground. I didn't see much of those first few seconds but I felt it. I hit the couch corner and the floor at a running pace. Some had grabbed a handful of my hair and was proceeding to bash my face against the ground before I recovered. Who the hell?

"You motherfucker," I grunted, jamming my elbow back and in. It caught, and the person relented for a moment. I had just enough time to get my feet under myself. It was a man, by the feel of it, larger body weight, heavier breathing. Who the fuck did he think he was? I doubted it was Vergil. If it had been him, I would have been unconscious or dead by now.

He started dragging me to my bedroom, my feet barely touched the ground. If he was smart he'd stay the fuck outta my bedroom. I did a kick, throwing my foot toward the general vicinity of the crotch. My foot made solid contact. The hand let go and I was finally staggered onto my feet. Spinning I faced my assailant.

"Cage," I panted, "you maggot." He wasn't listening, Cage was…weird. I hadn't thought that was possible. His face was dark and he was smiling at me, his lip bleeding where his oversized crooked teeth and cut the soft flesh. His eyes were literally flame red, like the marionette eyes. He looked like a serial killer…or worse, a demon. _Perfect_…

"Cute little Lor," he smiled as he wiped away the blood. God what was wrong with his voice? "Such a cute little whore. You need to be taught a lesson. Let's see what happens to a dirty little tease like you." I raised an eyebrow. He just nearly succeeded in bashing my face in and he wanted dirty? I'd freaking castrate him.

He lunged at me, clawing at my shirt and getting his blood all over it. He hit me once in right temple. God, the bitch, how had he known? _That_ _hurt_. I'm sure somebody was watching and laughing at the irony of it all. The pain was immense. That was all it took to drop me. How had he known? Laughing he single handedly threw me onto my bed. How had he gotten so strong? Then he was on top of me. Reeling I punched him. His head snapped back, still grinning at me, his blood dripped onto my face.

"Get off you jackass!" I shouted. I kneed him. Christ, nothing fazed this bastard.

After a moment of struggling he had my arms pinned. He leaned in close, panting and breathing on me with his disgusting breath. His one free hand was reaching downward, fumbling with his zipper.

"I know you want this, you little bitch," He sneered at me. He didn't faze me, I'd heard worse. His voice though, now that was annoying, he wheezed like a asthmatic having an attack. A drop of his sweat fell from his balding shiny head onto my face. Oh I am _so_ pissed.

Cage leaned in closer opening his mouth. That's right, get up close and personal. I whipped my head forward and bit him the nose, taking a chunk out in the process.

"You little bitch!" He yelled recoiling. He letting go of my arms and sat back to hold his poor little nose. That was just what I wanted.

"Fuck you dick," I snapped, freeing one leg. I thrust my boot into his face, kicking him off my bed. I felt his nose give under my boot too. That was a nice feeling. "And stay the hell off my bed," I growled, getting up.

I reached for the switch blade on my night stand. I _had_ promised him I'd castrate him if he screwed with me. I don't make idle threats. I leapt off the bed, taking up a defensive stance as Cage climbed to his feet. His nose was a pulpy mass and his eyes were actually _glowing_ now. Even his hands looked like claws. What the hell…was he a half demon? No way in hell I had missed something like that.

"Oh hell," I grunted. Here goes me and a puny steak knife against a demon. I am so screwed, but it was better than the alternative. Cage lunged again, inhumanly fast. Dodging, I drove my fist into his check as I moved out of his line of fire. Pay back's a bitch ain't it?

Reeling, Cage reached for my wrist. His hand closed around my arm, his nails cutting deep. Smirking he twisted till the bones and tendons gave. Biting back a scream I held onto the knife. Snarling, Cage spun me into the wall, knocking the knife from my hand as he pinned me. My wrist felt like a thousand burning splinters. I kicked, catching him in the crotch again. He didn't even notice it. Oh crap…now what? Cage drove his fist in my face. One handed I could only do so much to block. The back of my skull hit the wall hard enough to make spots dance in front of my eyes. Christ…my head was going to explode.

Then it all stopped.


	19. Cavalry

Poor Cage, maybe he should've brought his own partner...

* * *

He'd been later than he had anticipated. Lauren was sliding down the wall, a dazed look in her eyes. A small blood trail smeared after her down the wall as she sat, holding her wrist which appeared to be broken. Any later and the shadow would have had it's way with Lauren. It was common of shadows in hell to take what they wanted, they were the children of Lust and Greed demons. This particular shade was more violent than usual, however. He had to wonder if the chosen host had any baring on that.

He turned from the stunned shade to Lauren. She was tough, he had to give her that. No tears, no hysterics, just anger. Her face was white with it. He knelt down, studying her. She'd been hit, hard. She might have had a concussion for all he knew. Her eyes were unfocused enough for it and a trickle of red blood had wound it's way down her chin.

"Half thing! She's been promised as mine!" the shade snapped. He had known the human had been possessed, was a pawn of the queen. He'd known it since the last time he'd been here. The real question: was the possessed human the cause of Lauren's unusual aura or not?

All signs indicated no. Had it been the case, Lauren would be the one in control, not the one being battered like chattel. Still….if that wasn't the cause, what made her so special? Why did she have a demonic aura, a mere human woman with no apparent connection to the underworld? The rather specific qualifier for the most interesting of tasks? He had to know before he could utilize her further.

"Interesting," he commented, taking her face gently into his hands. Carelessly he wiped away the shadow host's blood from her forehead, as well as that which trickled down her chin. Her face was battered beyond recognition and she had a black eye. "You two do this often?" At that the golden orbs focus. They became the center point of anger and rage. She was pissed. Her eyes…humans never had gold eyes, did they? Vergil smirked. "Really?" he asked as if she had spoken. Her eyes were liquid fire. Still, she didn't speak, she did however growl. He fought the urge to laugh. Such an amusing human.

"I'll eat your insides, half thing! She's mine! The Queen will hear of your impudence!" The shade screamed. Ah yes, the Queen of the underworld, what a pain in the ass. It was rather difficult to rid oneself of her. He would know, she was the shadow puppet master for a majority his life. At the very memory of her, however, he felt himself stilling. He was losing control again, the fire licking at his body, urging the simple transformation to take place. The spirit was dead, it just didn't know it yet. Taking a breath, he calmed his roaring heartbeat. It wouldn't do to lose his temper to a mere shade.

No doubt it wished to provoke him into kill Lauren. Killing her, his only link, while a demon would be playing right into the delicate insidious hands of the Queen. She honestly thought he possessed such little control? He glanced at Lauren again as he stood up, she was aware now, staring at the possessed human with a look of rage and disbelief. She had spirit, he gave her that. In a way she reminded him of Dante.

"Did you hear me, you Halfling?" the shade roared, "I will wear her skin as a trophy, the queen herself will honor me for killing the wench! I will rape her body and her soul will be mine for the taking!" Vergil turned to the shade. It hadn't moved from where he'd thrown it. It's host body was too injured to move, he realized.

"Such stupidity," he said softly, his entire attention fixed on the shade. It stilled, staring at him warily. "An immobile shade insulting _me_, a general of the armies of hell. You even went as far as to fuck with my associate, something neither of us appreciates." Vergil smiled benignly at the shade, wrapping his aura around the host body.

He lifted the shade up by the throat so it could look him in the eye. The human's eyes went wide with pain, fear, and shock as the shade attempted to vacate its host body. Its weak aura writhed against Vergil's own. _Useless decaying garbage._ It maintained inhabiting the human's body as Vergil tightened his aura, effectively sealing the shade into the weaker human body. The human host's eyes went dull, as the shade took over his consciousness once again.

Under his breath, Vergil whispered the word that would forever bind the shade to the human, so even when the host died, the shade would be able to do nothing more than inhabit a corpse until the last of the human's bones fell away to ashes. Vergil could practically taste the shade's despair, anger, shame, and terror. He knew the mere amount of decay and time would drive the shade to madness. A fitting punishment for daring to fool with his plans.

"Now that you are fully immersed in your host," he said coolly, "allow me to introduce you to your future." With that Vergil threw the possessed human through Lauren's front door. Walking over to the whimpering human/Shade, Vergil placed his foot on it's throat hard enough to cut off the air supply, but not hard enough to crush the windpipe.

"You may tell the queen," he said, "that her machinations in my life are getting tiresome. Tell her I will no longer abide by her meddling in my affairs and that my need of her has passed." He removed his foot. Gasping, the human-shade made to speak. Ignoring it's pleads, he kicked it down the stairwell. His foot sunk into the soft human side, breaking several bones and organs. He heard the liquids and bones sloshing around together. It was a satisfying sound.

Turning he headed back to Lauren's apartment, not sparing the shade extra attention. She was still where he had left her, on the floor, dazed. Going to her, Vergil carefully carried her to the couch. _Humans_, they were so pathetically fragile. It was hard to tell if she needed an orb or energy star. She glared at him, clutching her wrist, but silent. Star it was then, if she was still conscious enough to show him anger, then she didn't need an orb. Though the lack of any other emotion was slightly unsettling, most human women would have been hysterical, in shock, or dead by now. Lauren merely looked angry, not giving show to any of the physical pain he knew she was in. He could literally hear the broken bones in her wrist grinding together.

"Will you be able to stay awake?" he asked her. She glared up at him from her seat on the couch. No doubt when she was healed she'd have a few choice words to say. He considered just leaving her the way she was if meant a few more minutes of silence. That didn't fix the problem of him having to listen to her bitch later however. Sighing, he headed to Lauren's kitchen, hopefully there'd be some ice in her pathetic excuse of a fridge.

Oh god I hurt. My head, my wrist, my head, I couldn't decide what hurt more. Aside from my pride that is. What the hell had that been about? What was a shade and what did they do to people? Who the hell was _the queen_? When Vergil returned, he was holding an ice compress and a sparkly green thing.

"Take this," he handed the compress to me. I could literally feel my face swelling. I glared at him and took the ice pack, holding it on my wrist.

"What's that?" I demanded. Vergil held the green thing up. It looked like a star. A star made out of bright green stone.

"Just hold still," he replied flatly. He took the star and held it against my forehead. It felt cool when it touched my skin. The cool feeling spread, it seeped through my skin like a blessing, taking away all my pain. It was better than drugs, legal or otherwise. I could have stayed there for a while. Unfortunately feeling returned. The first thing I felt was someone-Vergil-grasping my chin and turning my head this way and that. I realized then that I had closed my eyes. I snapped them open.

"Better," Vergil replied. "Let's go. We have work to do." Vergil stood up.

"Vergil?" He glanced at me. "What the _hell_ was that? And in case you didn't notice, I need to change." I gestured to my bloody, torn shirt. He stared at me with a bland face. "And how the _hell_ did that thing get into my fucking home? And I don't have a front door anymore." My voice sounded gruff and scratchy despite the fact that I was so angry I was shaking.

"Dress quickly, we have a lot to do tonight if you want me to answer all that," he sighed.

"What's a shade?" I demanded, not moving.

"Latter," he brushed me off, "go change." Damn him, I nearly get raped by a thing called a shade and he just tells me to buckle down and get ready for more work. I ground my teeth together.

"Dammit I don't have a front door!" I snapped.

"You're alive," Vergil replied flatly, nonplussed. "Try to keep it that way."

"Fuck you," I snapped, stomping into my bedroom. Fine _partner_, be that way, so as long as I get a real damning explanation this time. That asshole Cage. Between him and Vergil I was going to lose my mind. Growling, I nearly tore a hole in my left sock as I put it on. Vergil was waiting for me where my door used to be. Over the last few minutes I'd been able to gain a little bit of self control, or what little of it I had in any case.

"What the hell am I going to do about that?" I asked him annoyed, shoving one arm into my jacket sleeve.

"We're getting you get a new door. One that's actually useful. The door you had wouldn't protect a flea from demons," He straitened up and glanced over at me. When he spoke next his voice was dry with sarcasm. "Especially when he had the key to your front door." I felt the muscles in my neck twitching.

"That's not my fault," I growled.

"If you're going to be of any further use to me, I need you alive, and preferably not assassinated by the occasional lower class evil spirit," Vergil continued as if I hadn't spoken. "As for your land lord, I doubt he'll walk again. Evil spirits have a tendency to kill their weak minded human hosts."

"Evil Spirits?" I asked skeptically. That was new…kinda…usually they just wanted to kidnap me, not kill me. "Assassinated? He was trying to assassinate me?"

"He was possessed by a third class shade, one of the strongest I've seen in a while. I believe the most common way to rid oneself of a shade on this side of the barrier is by performing an exorcism."

"You're kidding me right?" I snorted. Great, now I was getting assassination attempts from the underworld. Do I get any health care payments with this partnership?

"Hardly. Not much of the church doctrine can be relied upon for defense against attacks of demons from the underworld. The exorcism right is one of the few that will work," Vergil replied absent mindedly. He examined me from head to toe, his blue eyes sweeping across every inch of me. I gritted my teeth together, I seriously hope he wasn't going to say something I'd have to try and hurt him for. I can't imagine that going over too well for either of us. "You're starting to dress like you have a clue."

"Go to hell," I snapped. I did not need fashion comments from a half-demon. I was wearing a long sleeved modest black shirt and jeans and of course my trusty combat boots. In short, I looked like rejected nun. "Why doesn't the church doctrine apply to demons?"

"Just what I said. Relatively speaking, the church and its doctrine is new." Well wasn't he the font of information tonight.

"Right so the church is full of crap and the only viable ritual relating to the church, when combating the forces of hell, is the exorcism."

"Yes," Vergil replied in his stupid monkey Lor voice.

"Possessed human? So Cage is screwed no matter what right?" I asked, fumbling for a cigarette. Vergil nodded.

"Shades are parasites, seeking out weak human souls to inhabit, slowly taking over their bodies. Usually a traumatic event within the possessed host's life creates an emotional vacuum a shade needs in order to thrive," Vergil explained. Hm…well at least I could take satisfaction in that. If someone deserved a parasite from hell infesting his body, it was Cage.

"Like he needed a parasite to bring out the asshole in him," I muttered dryly between cigarette and breathing. I had a migraine now that made my previous ones look like a walk in the park.

Vergil started walking down the hallway without saying anything. I followed a moment latter. He really wasn't that bad of a guy to have at your back when things went to hell, I guess. Now if we could just work on his social skills…assuming he had any that is.


	20. Cerberious 2

gasp Cerberious got _old_? Considering he was in the tower for time out of mind, well he's always been old people. Enjoy!

* * *

This time Vergil was driving a red sports car. Everything he drove was fast, leather interior, and top-less. …Pig. The only good thing about Vergil was his driving. I was nearly asleep when we came to a halt.

"What are we doing?" I asked as we walked up to the front door of a run-down looking shop. The sign on the window said 'Ed's'. How original can you get?

"Visiting Ed," Vergil replied flatly.

"And is Ed human?" I retorted dryly.

"Do you really need to ask that question?" Vergil retorted. Jerk. "One thing," He said, turning to me, "don't speak unless spoken to."

"What?" I asked flatly.

"Ed has sensitive ears," Vergil replied seriously. Was he freaking kidding me? "To the point of physically disfiguring the mouths that annoy him."

"You're telling me to shut up or be disfigured?" Vergil raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. He was very distinctly laughing at me again. He didn't think I could do that apparently. I gave him the finger and a dirty look. Chuckling he went in the front door.

The store was silent and dark, some where in deep in the store, I could hear a clock ticking. We passed aisles crammed with antiques. Tall wooden coat hangers, dressers, beaus, wooden chests that still smelled faintly of cedar or pine, bookshelves, end tables, small carved book ends, a roll top desk, and a broken rusty milk pail, the list went on and on. We finally passed the grandfather clock on the way to the back. It was huge but beautiful. Funny, this place didn't look like it belonged to a demon.

The only light in the entire building was placed in front of a small shaggy haired, wrinkly man. He wore thick coke bottle glasses, which he took off to see us. The old man set down the small watch he was working on and started chuckling when he saw us. His laughter ended in a bought of coughing. This old man was the one who'd physically maim me? …He looked human enough.

"The Hellsmith said you were back in town," the old man said. He had a rough quality to his voice; it was difficult to understand what it was he was saying. I wanted to say his accent was French with a spoonful of Russian. "Never thought, though, that you'd come and visit. I still don't understand why you and your worthless brother wanted that particular object," The old man shook himself. It reminded me of a wet dog shaking itself dry. "How long has it been, boy? Five, fifiteen years? And now you just come waltzing in here with all this luggage," The old man continued, sounding annoyed, maybe borderline pissed, "and take that cursed thing just like that. You're more like your father when you're human Angelo."

It clicked suddenly and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck raise up. Oh god, the way his voice sounded...it was like a growl of an animal. And did he just seriously call Vergil _boy_? … Who the heck was Angelo? I hadn't given notice to it before, but Trish had called Vergil Nero. Exactly how many names _did_ Vergil have?

"Cerberious," Vergil plopped a black velvet bad of something on his desk, "I need a door made and installed. Tonight." The old man started laughing. I'm have to wonder what's so wrong with a door from Menard's. Was this the demon from three weeks ago? It was an old man? Or…was he a demon in disguise? How exactly did that work, demons looking like humans and humans who were demons? On second thought, maybe ignorance was bliss.

"You want something like that? Tonight?" His laughter filled the room but died as he eyed the bag. "How much is in there?"

"Enough," Vergil replied in a bored but strangely courteous voice. "I have some specifications as well."

"Do you now?" the old man asked. He poured the contents of the bag onto his desk. There were thousands of tiny blood red glowing stones. Demon's blood, dried demon's blood. Gross. Cerberious held one of the gems up to the small light for inspection.

Vergil pulled me forward, "The door's for her." The old man looked at me for the first time. I made a half assed attempt at a smile. It felt more like a wince. I wasn't feeling very smiley right then. The old man's face grew cloudy as he studied me. That's when I noticed the teeth. They were long, especially his canines. Even his eyebrows were way too bushy.

"So the rumors are true for once, you have taken a mortal partner. Interesting," the old man stared at me. Taken a mortal partner? What was the big deal? Why was everyone acting like I was the weirdest thing since the Salem Witch trials? I stared back at him, blinking. He didn't look that dangerous…

"You have a name girl?" he barked at me. I suppressed an urge to yell back. I had enough barking at me for one night and then some.

"Lor," I replied evenly. "Are you," I paused, unsure if I should say what I wanted to say. I decided not to ask a stupid question like, are you a demon or a human? The old man just looked at me and waited expectantly. I was suddenly aware how quiet and uncomfortable the room was.

"How do you make a demon proof door if you're a demon yourself? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" I asked. From what I knew, he would just be able to use the door against me if it was his aura embedded into the door that was supposed to be for 'protection'. The old man studied me with closer interest. I hadn't meant to sound so rude…but I was having a bad night dammit, and I wanted answers.

"Well done, Vergil, you've found yourself an interesting one," he said softly, "a human woman that can actually think things through logically." Oh gee, another demon with a sense of humor … The old man looked directly at me, "When you arrive home tonight, you will have a door installed, on this I give you the word of my true name and of my true form. As for how a barrier door is made, the blood of lesser demons is bled into the intended wood for the door. Hard wood is best used for this type of task, the hard woods are usually more absorbent of the demonic auras within the crystallized blood. The melding and mixing of the blood creates a more powerful aura that repels strong and weak demons alike."

"Um…okay," I said. Wow, hell's encyclopedia britanica. "Thanks." I looked to Vergil and he turned to leave. Guess we were done here. I've never gotten a door so cheap. Never had to buy a door before though either…

"Vergil," the old man called. Vergil turned to him. He tossed something to Vergil. "This one's on the house. I repay you and yours for taking away my cursed duty topside, do with it as you will. Call me to your side should you have a need to." Vergil was stoic as he always was, but he bowed his head slightly. What the hell was that? Demons, they make no sense what-so-ever.


	21. Education

"So," I said as I buckled up, "Exactly how many names do you have?" Vergil glanced over at me and then stuck the keys into the ignition. He wasn't going to answer that question. "Okay. Then what's next on the demon hunting agenda?" I asked, trying again. I was trying to hide the fact that I wanted to whine like a little kid. I'd had my fill of demons for tonight. I didn't want to go home but I also didn't feel like being elbow high in things that wanted to kill me. Vergil was already pulling out into traffic, heading downtown.

"Education," he said.

"What?" I snorted.

"For you," he said flatly. "You're going to need to know some things if you expect to survive."

"Whatever." I knew enough to keep myself alive, but as long as there wasn't going to be anymore demons, knowledge never hurt anyone. "Where's demon high located at anyways?" I mused. Vergil glanced at me before returning his attention to the road. I'm starting to think that's his version of 'what the fuck?' or maybe just when he's annoyed. In any case, he didn't answer and we drove in silence for the rest of the way. Guess Vergil didn't like high school too much either.

Fifteen minutes latter, we arrived at a church. Of all the places he could've dragged me… Rumor had it that the doors were always open, all times of the year, for those in need. It was the biggest shelter facility-besides the New Light Organization-in the city for the homeless and the hopeless. The place always kind of scared me what with the huge towering spires and the super loud Sunday bells.

"We're _here_ for education?" I asked as I climbed out of the car. "Isn't this an oxymoron?"

"We're here for you," he retorted flatly. "Demons don't frequent churches."

The inside of the church was huge. It had to be a football field at the very least. It was too quiet, our footsteps echoed throughout the place, which had it's share of people in it. Mostly they were huddled around on bedding, spread out across the floor. Nobody spared us a glance as we walked past the plots of refugees.

Vergil led me to a quiet and relatively unoccupied section of the sanctuary. It was closer to the alter than I was comfortable with, though I'd never admit as much. He took a seat and motioned for me to join him. The pew was hard on the ass, and I was uncomfortable as hell to be there. What could I learn about demons in a church that I couldn't learn somewhere else?

"What am I suppose to learn?"

"You said last time we parted that you wanted to know what was going on. And you made it explicitly clear tonight that you wanted to know what was going on." Dammit. He was right, I had asked that. I had even demanded it in retrospect.

"Right. So," I leaned forward, "what do I need to know?" His eyes were closed but he started explaining anyway, like he had it memorized by heart.

"You already know about the chalice. However, the chalice is only one of three artifacts needed to birth the anti-crist."

"Oh, that's all, huh?" I bit my bottom lip, chewing on that. The anti-crist? Great, so we were collecting them because…? No way I helping Vergil bring what was considered ultimate evil into the mortal world. Wait, a minute, did I really just think that? Vergil was staring at me with narrowed eyes.

"The anti-crist is prophesized as being the un-demon, the one true source of evil. This child will make Satan look like a preschooler." He reached into his pocket and gave me a folded piece of paper.

"Hey this is mine," I grumbled opening it. "Dammit, you stole this from my bag." It was the picture of the demon I had photocopied at the library. It was the figure of a man, half blue and half red. I had found it in a book pertaining to the occult. I thought I had lost it. Old buddy of yours Vergil?

"Do you know what that is?" he asked me mildly.

"A demon," I snorted.

"That's the _undemon_, Lauren." So did his knowledge make my partner an order member? Maybe I really should just flat out ask him, then again, if he was an order member, I was screwed. Big time. How does something become _un_demon?

"What does this have to do with Satan?"

"Satan was the mother of all demons. She seduced all and birthed all. She was, for lack of better wording, the original sin of lust incarnated. Satan had the misfortune however, or seducing Lucifer. Together they created hell. Now they're gone, sealed into a false dormant state. Legend claims they left behind an entire family, also dormant for the most part; caged unless freed."

"Satan was a slut?" I interrupted. Surprising. I had Satan pegged for a guy not a chic. Vergil shot me a glare.

"Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"_Sor-ry_," I grumbled.

"Of the children left behind, I'm most interested in the eldest. This particular child was an angel, one of the three essential mediators of creation, the angel of death. Lucifer controlled life and Satan birth. The other two children Satan bore Lucifer were also angels, they facilitated the three segments of the life cycle. However, in the end Satan and Lucifer feared the eldest child and cast their eldest child into a vortex."

"Wow, nice parenting," I muttered. Vergil shot me a flat glare. I shrugged. "What does this little story have to do with what you're doing?"

"I have reason to believe that Lucifer and the eldest child have been reincarnated on earth."

"What?" I asked mildly. God the order…it had been their sole purpose to bring about the resurrection of 'The Mother Goddess'. They believed she would 'give birth' to a better world, a better existence. Was there some correlation between their 'Goddess' and Vergil's story of Satan? Perhaps the confusion lay with the separation of Lucifer and Satan as separate beings. Wait a minute, why the hell should I even care? Why does any of this matter?

"The three artifacts I spoke of will allow Lucifer to be reborn in his power, a devil human construct. The chalice we've collected. Yet there is the heart of darkness, and the eye of ascension still abroad in the world. Once all three artifacts are combined they create a doorway to Lucifer's power, and to the still restin dormant body of Satan. Whomever possess the artifacts and Lucifer's reincarnation possess a pathway to destruction. That can't be allowed to happen and reclaiming the remaining artifacts will be difficult. Many wish to posses them."

"It's that simple eh?" I fumbled for my pack. So Vergil was Superman trying to save the world from this evil bent on destroying humanity. Yeah, sure he was. Who the hell did he think he was fooling? Dang I was on my last cig already. "So that's hell's holy bible?"

"I presume your rambling means you have a question," Vergil replied. He raised an eyebrow as he watched me try to get my lighter started. "You're actually going to smoke in a church?"

"Are you representing the air quality police?" I asked lighting up, like he went to church anyways. "So you're telling me you're just Mr. Good Samaritan trying to save the world."

"Hardly," he replied flatly, standing up. I snapped my lighter closed. Well at least he was strait up about it, none of that sneaking behind the back crap.

"Excuse me?"

"You think I went to the trouble of looking for old relics because I thought it would be entertaining?"

"I'm not working with you if you're going to be an asshole with that kind of power," I replied flatly.

"Don't insult me," Vergil replied coolly, turning to me. "I don't need to borrow power from another demon, Lauren, I'm not that weak. I'm simply collecting the artifacts to piss off the queen of the underworld." I rolled my eyes. I believed him, it would be good leverage to get some one like that off your ass. It figures, Vergil would go to such trouble to piss off more women. I'm starting to think tact is a moot point with him. Still, now I knew who was pissed at him in the first time I met him. Still, what he was doing better not come down on my head, like it currently had with Cage.

"That doesn't make you a good Samaritan." He raised an eyebrow.

"I returned your bag." I snorted.

"There no way in hell you're a good Samaritan." He chuckled.

"I could say the same of you Lauren." I stared at him, he looked at me with a blank face. The words 'bite me' were on the tip of my tongue and he was expecting it. Damn him.

"You're an ass," I growled. He smirked.

"Unless you have any more questions, I'm leaving, come or go as you will, but I'm leaving." He turned to leave.

"Why'd you drag me here?" I asked. He stopped for a moment and glanced at me over his shoulder.

"This place possess a positive aura, spoken words can go unheard here. Anything else?" he asked dryly.

"Yeah, one more. Is it possible for humans to summon multiple demons over the barrier separating hell and heaven? Demons as strong as you? Like if they followed their own particular doctrines, not the churches?" I ground out the cigarette.

"What?" he stared at me with sharp eyes.

"A church with an older doctrine than this one's, could they force demons, angels, whatever, to follow it? Force them to cross the barrier?" I tried to make my voice sound like it really was just another spur of the minute question.

"In some rare cases yes," he paused considering, "Why do you ask?" Hmm…still no positive signs of a yes or a no on the Order member. Was he purposely being evasive or did he really know that much about hell related things? I had seen enough of hell t than to arouse his suspicions. But that left me where I started: unsure if I could trust Vergil yet.

"No reason, just thinking." I stood up, reaching for my bag.

"One other thing," Vergil held out something in his hand, sighing. "You should wear this in the future."

"What is it?" I took it and turned it over in my palm. It was a metal symbol on a chain, the Celtic weave, an intricate symbol that stood for the circle of life. It looked like pure silver and so did the chain. Why was Vergil giving it to me? Wait a moment…he was giving me jewelry? This was wrong in oh-so-many ways. He must have seen the expression on my face.

"It'll allow me to find you whenever I need to, supposedly it's able to work vise-versa as well, but I doubt you'll be able to use it the way I can. It gives me a telepathic link to you," Vergil said. That boy needs to get along with humans more; myself a case in point. Especially if he was suppose to be giving me jewelry. He sighed before continuing, "The position I hold in hell is rather precarious, it would be in your best interest never to take that off."

"Like I didn't notice." I studied the little pendent. "So, you're giving me a demonic beeper?" I raised an eyebrow. "You guys really need to upgrade the tech down there. This isn't going to let you snoop around in my head is it?" I held the trinket up to look at it closer. It needed some polishing, but there was a red-ish gem set in the middle of the Celtic weave pattern. It was pretty, in a weird way, beautifully crafted.

"It doesn't work quiet like that, Lauren. I'll just be aware of where you are and how you're doing, not what you're thinking about. Which, one could add, can't be much." Vergil began to walk toward the doors again. I tried not to think about what he had just said too closely, it would only piss me off. He was still dodging any question that might reveal too much about himself too. Was he from the Order? If he was, then who sent Cage? Was it possible that the Order had sent both of them? The trinket felt warm in my palm. The Celtic weave stood for the three phases of life: birth, life, and death. Unusually apt considering Vergil's vendetta. I put it on, before I could talk myself out of it. It hung an inch below my collar bone.

"Hey, could you wait up," I called annoyed. When I caught up, I tugged on his sleeve. Like usual he ignored me. "Vergil," I sighed. This might actually hurt. "Thanks helping me tonight, I appreciate it." I had to tell him that I guess. You know, attempt to be decent. Even if he was a flaming asshole. Vergil didn't say anything, he just kept walking. I didn't think he was going to say anything, but once we were out of the church…

"It's nothing." Heh, he said something, and it was almost a fair sided conversation. I must wearing off on him.


	22. Of Dhampire and Doors

Yay for new doors and nameless old enemies with dhampire messengers! Enjoy!

* * *

That night was not one of my better ones. I got the hairy eyeball treatment from everyone as I walked up to my apartment. Mrs. Durib, the old woman who lived across the hall, was waiting for me when I got there. I had passed Mrs. Elizabeth Jones-or rather the newly, Mz. Elizabeth Jones as of two weeks ago-she had been the only one to shine her pearly whites at me as I walked pass. I think Cage had been leaning on her as well. Figures. She was the only woman in the build under thirty. 

"Hello, Mrs. D," I said carefully when I saw her. Mrs. Durib is a tough old bird. She doesn't take any crap.

"It's about time you got back missy," Mrs. Durib snapped. You can tell by the way she takes control of a situation that Mrs. D was one of those mothers that could've made your five year old self wilt with a healthy dose of 'The Look'. Mrs. D is also one of those old biddies you'd like to put out with a shot gun at times.

"Sorry about ratchet earlier," I said scratching my head.

"Ha!" Mrs. D crackled. "What are you apologizing for? He didn't get hurt did ye?"

"No ma'am," I said. I smiled faintly at the memory of Vergil throwing Cage through my front door. At least I could laugh about that kind of shit, it's the stuff you can't laugh at latter that tears you apart. "Nothing serious happened." Mrs. D crackled.

"Of course we all heard that. Get some rest, goodness knows you deserve it. Tomorrow you and that Jillian Jones girl you watch should come over some time and we'll have tea and cookies." I forced a smile at Mrs. D. I can't believe I totally forgot that I was supposed to watch Jillian tomorrow. Elizabeth Jones was taking her son, Will, to the doctors or something, and somehow I got roped into watching her younger daughter Jillian. What can I say? I have soft spot for kids.

We said our good-byes, and I watched as Mrs. D closed her door. I waited till I heard the dead bolts snap into place. I turned to my side of the hall. Cerberious had been good to his word, I had a new door. It looked surprisingly normal. It was just a wooden door, nothing gothic or horrifying about it. When I touched the door knob, I felt a kind of electric current go up my arm. Yep, that was demonic…beggars can't be choosers I guess. I pulled and the door opened with ease. There were no dead bolts on the inside. Strangely enough I didn't think I was going to need any.

That night I dreamed again. There was a man, the man in white, peeling my skin off, hissing rumors and superstitions in my ear. His tongue was that of a snake's. This time there was a woman dressed in black there as well. She held a red copy of the Seal of Solomn in her hands. Something I shouldn't have had to see, even in my nightmares. They were whispering together, of the secrets and The Secret and my body hurt so much. What were they doing to me? Were was Vergil?

**The next night--The Dhampire**

That next evening I worked the graveyard shift at Joe's, minus my favorite black tie. I still had to replace the one I ruined when Vergil took us to the Hellsmith. No way was I wearing the flamingo pink one Tiffy had gotten me as a gag gift two years ago, though to be fair I considered wearing it just to piss boss Joe off. Work, what a waste of time, but at least it was easy, all I had to do was sit and watch the restaurant. Now if it wasn't so daming boring… The night chef, Lorenzo, was in the back reading the day's paper. I was up front looking for some good music on the radio. I even called up Tiffany on the office phone letting her know I was alright.

The door bells jingled, as someone walked into Joe's. Wow, it was like two in the morning, and we had customers. Somebody call Geniuses. I looked over to Lorenzo. He rolled his eyes and I chuckled. He had a point.

"Hello, can I help…you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Weird didn't begin to cover it. She was wearing arm blades and skin tight red and black leather. Was Halloween early this year? She had the palest skin and emerald eyes not to mention the shock red hair. Was that dye of some sort? It was literally cherry red. And the award for the best vampire-wanna-be goes to…

"Perhaps," her voice was strong and confident, "I'm looking for Lauren Star. You know where I can find her?" She sat down at the counter casually. Wow, can we say porn star? Her boobs couldn't be real could they? What did she want? I felt my gut twist. Was she from the Order? Was she a demon? Nah, she didn't have that demon feeling. I poured her some water.

"If I say yes, will you buy a hamburger?" I slid the glass towards her. She stared me in the eye, unsmiling. The glass of water went flying, hissing she held one of her giant arm blades in the general vicinity of my neck. That was fast. _Real_ _fast_.

"Where is she?" She snapped.

"Why?" I asked calmly. Careful with the blade, lady, cut me and we'll both be having a bad night. I knew Lorenzo could see what was happening, hopefully he'd call the police. Better not count on that being much help though. Was I getting hazard pay for this?

"I'm losing my patience, sugar," she leaned forward and smiled. That's when I saw the teeth. Not canine, but sharp like a dog's would be. But they weren't dog teeth. Her teeth weren't meant for tearing flesh repeatedly, just once, because once was all her kind needed. _Vampire_. Well that explained the water, kind of. What was this? The honorary year from hell?

"So am I," I said flatly. "What do you want?" She looked at me surprised, dropping her blade a fraction of an inch.

"_You're_ Lauren Star?"

"You're going to kill me?" I asked mildly. Boss Joes always says the customers are always right. Was he off base. The vampire chick just stared at me, blinking. "Did the Order send you?" I prompted her. Might as well get that question out of the way quickly.

"You're human?" she asked me again, still blinking. … … … If I get asked that question one more time, I will not be held liable for my actions. Annoyed I pushed her blade out of my face. What was _with_ these people? Was being human not good enough? That was getting old, fast.

"You have a problem with that?" I snapped.

"So it does have a tongue, not much common sense though," she commented.

"Do you have any actual reason for being here?" I asked her bluntly. She drew back for a moment, considering.

"An old friend of yours has something very important to me," the woman got off the counter landing gracefully next to me. "Somehow I got stuck playing her little messenger girl. She wants to see you." She was wearing metal spiked stilettos, now there was a fashion statement. She stared at me with an amused expression.

"It never occurred for her to use the phone?" I asked mildly. I pulled out a cigarette. So it was my long lost 'friend' Linda was calling on me. Joy. Old Friend eh? More like hypocrite from hell.

"You make her nervous," the woman said coolly. "She wants to see you. _Now_." Her face was pretty, playful, and dangerous. She had the same stare as Vergil. A dollar said she as dangerous but only if she _chose_ to be. Meaning Linda may have something she wanted, but my life and my visiting Linda weren't on the top of this little vampire's list of important things to do...

"Do you know the real reason she wants to see me?" I asked. I leaned back on the counter folding my arms. Looking over I could see Lorenzo, asleep. Peachy. There went the 'he's calling the police' theory. I sucked on my cancer stick.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," the girl replied archly, looking ready to scream. I felt a small smile tug at my lips, Linda bored me to tears too. Someone must not have been having a good night.

"Nevermind then, I'm sorry she dragged you into this," I shrugged. "She can be a bit demanding." I must be going crazy. Wonder why I'm in such a talkative mood tonight. I sighed. "You've gone to a lot of trouble, is there anything I can do for you? It's on the house."

"I don't eat that kind of food," she said. Well that was a bleak statement for me. She turned to the empty restaurant as if taking notice of it for the first time before. "As it is I'm not too hungry." All the same she began to advance on me, smirking. "You really should be more careful about what you offer up to people." I stared at her. I could practically hear Vergil's voice in the back of my head saying, 'see, I told you so,' in that stupid smug voice he reserves for me. "As it is, I need proof that I completed my mission," she added. Her green eyes were staring at me hungrily.

"Um…tell her to call me?" I asked.

"That's the proof you offer?" She asked mildly. She had a point. Linda would want my head on a platter as an excuse for my absence. It's nearly impossible to rid oneself of the fey.

"Tell her to get off her ass and visit me herself," I snorted. I thought for a minute. "It would be worth the colors to show for it."

"Worth the colors?" the dhampire looked at me with upraised eyebrows. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you purposely being an enigmatic pain in my ass?" she growled. "I'm not your servant. You realize that the only reason you're alive right now is due to the fact I have better things to do than kill a weakling like you?" That and whatever Linda was holding over her head, if I knew Linda half as well as I think I did.

"Yeah," I waved a hand in the air, "just another thorn in your side. Sorry for existing." I seem to be getting that a lot this month, that inferior attitude. Stupid worthless mortals, wasting time of you higher beings, did they ever stop to think that life ain't so easy for us either? She turned to leave.

"Hey," I called to her. I needed to know her name, better the enemy that you know then the one you don't. I didn't want her sneaking into my home late a night anytime soon. "What's your name?" She turned and smiled. I watched her walk casually over to the counter. Maybe that was a stupid question…

"They call me BloodRayne," she said sweetly, "I'm dhampire." Her expression was expectant, waiting, and proud. She wanted a reaction, or she was judging mine. I exhaled and sucked on my cig again. Dhampire, huh? A half-breed vampire, if what Tiffany had told me was anything to go on. Tiffany knew more about weird stuff than anybody I knew. Revise that, she probably knew about as much and Vergil or Dante or Trish did, in theory at least.

"Really?" I asked dully. "How nice. Well," I held out my hand, "you can call me Lor. Not that big a difference from Lauren, but I'd prefer Lor." I shrugged and put my hand away. She hadn't looked like the type who shook hands. "If you're in town and you ever need a place to crash, look me up."

"I'd do this because?" Rayne cocked her head to one side. If she had been Vergil, I'd already be dead. Vergil struck me as the type who killed first and asked questions later.

"_I'm_ doing this because _I_ owe _you_. Not everyone would hear me out, so I guess it's my way of repaying you," I replied. "Besides, I think it would be good to have some allies, don't you? Just in case Linda ever does turn out to be a full-blown homicidal nut-case. Which I would like to point out is _very_ likely." I exhaled a cloud of toxic fumes.

"She's not my problem," Rayne replied coolly. She had a point. I shook my head and started to look for a rag to clean the water with.

"I'll see you around little human," She said softly. "Let's hope, for your sake, I never have a need of your generous offer."

"Good-bye BloodRayne," I said as I cleaned off the counter. Of course, by then the door had already closed and the dhampire was gone. What a weird night.


	23. Wedding Wheelers

The next morning-a couple hours latter really-I was awoken by my ringing phone. The clock read around eight thirty; I'd only been asleep for two and a half hours. I picked up the cell on the tenth ring.

"Hello?" I mumbled into the receiver.

"Lor? Is that you?" It was Tiffany.

"Who else would it be?"

"Don't be a jerk, I'm just calling to see if you're alright, since you haven't called me for a while now." She must not have gotten my message.

"Check your answer machine." The words I really wanted to tell Tiffany were right on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her about Cage, what he had tried to do. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't tell her. It was just too early in the day to be talking about shit like that. "Sorry I haven't been calling you like we planned, hence the message on the machine, things have just been a little hairy lately."

"I know, I know, you're schedule is always busy. Anyhow I have some great news! Josh is home, I told him, and we're keeping the baby! Oh, Lor this is so wonderful!" What, like not keeping it had ever been an option?

"You were considering abortion?" I asked her, interested. I reached for my pack of cigarettes on the table besides my bed.

"What? Oh, abortion? Well, I don't know Lor, but let's not think about that, okay? I'm going to be a mommy! I'm going to be somebody's wife! We're getting married Lor! I'm so happy! Lor, I'm going to have a family!"

"Congratulations," I said. I didn't even sound happy. I was so tired, my brain was demanding sleep. I lit my cig. Oh, better than caffeine in the morning. Had Tiffany really been considering abortion? Wait a minute, did she just say she was getting married?

"What did you mean when you said 'wife'?" I asked her.

"We're getting MARRIED!" Tiffany was practically singing. Wow, that sounded horrible. Tiffany really shouldn't quite her day job anytime soon. Still, for a pregnant lady, soon to be mom and wife, she did pretty well. I had to chuckle.

"When are you guys getting hitched?" I asked.

"When? Now! Today! Soon! We don't even need the rings! Tell you the truth I don't even want them! We just need a marriage certificate! Oh Lor, I'm so happy!" Tiffany actually squealed on the other end. Tiffany, the same girl who once told me that if I snorted too often I would turn into a pig, just squealed like one. Damn, it was too early for this.

"Where's it going to be? Do you want me there?"

"Well actually that's why I'm calling, I want you to be our legal witness! Please tell me you can come! It's so important that you do Lor!"

"Tiffany, stop shouting, my hearing is fine," I paused to suck on my cig. "I'll be there, I just need a time and a place," I said. I slumped into my pillows. Lucky me, my day to sleep in was fading fast. At least I had no where else to go today, well not that I knew of anyways.

"Be at the City Hall around five tonight! I don't even care what you wear! OH LOR!" Tiffany started giggling spastically on the phone. Wincing I held the cell a foot from my face and heard her perfectly. Well she was happy. If I wasn't so doping tired, would've tried to force a happy grunt for her. I'm a lousy friend.

"Alright I'll be there," I told her after the giggling had died down a little. "I'll bring you guys a wedding present or something."

"It just better not be wine! But seriously, you don't have to bring anything really! You just have to sign the certificate; the judge will do the rest! Oh my god, Lor, we're going shopping for baby supplies, you know that! Oh!" She squealed again. "We're going to go get a crib! A family of my very own Lor!" I grinned into the receiver. Tiffany's happiness was contagious. The news was finally starting to sink into my tired brain.

"That is what you always wanted," I told her softly. "I'll see you there, Mrs. Missus. Enjoy the shopping spree," I sighed. Come to think of it what was Josh's last name? My head…it was hurting again…migraines from hell…honestly…

"Good bye Lor. Don't forget to set your alarm clock! Don't be late! Get some sleep! I know you pulled another night shift at Joe's, so I'm really counting on you to be there!"  
"Yeah, I know Tiff. Goodnight," I hung up. How did she do things like that? I crawled back into bed after I set my alarm clock for three that afternoon.

As usual I woke up late and was in a mega hurry. By the time I was out the door I was running behind by ten minutes, by the time I got Josh and Tiffany their wedding gift-a pack of nookies for the baby and a stuffed teddy bear I named Norman-I was twenty minutes behind. City hall was still a good forty minutes away too. Time to crack open the wallet, damn, I was hoping to save my cash but who's going to be a cheap skate when it comes to something this important?

Dammit dammit, dammit, my hello kitty wallet was empty. Again. How was I going to get there in time? I picked up the walking pace. I began scrounging around in my jean pockets for possible bus change. Nothing. I moved on to my back pack, trying to suppress the beginnings of a panic attack. I had to be there on time. If I wasn't, that might mean a couple of broken fingers for me and feminine hysterics on Josh's behalf. My fingers reached past Norman and the nookie case, searching. They found paper. It was a crisp twenty dollar bill tucked into a crusty seldom used corner of my back pack. Providence I love you. That would just be enough for a taxi ride.

I stick my thumb and pointer fingers in my mouth and blow. I'm an expert at catching a cab. I can whistle so loud, I once made dogs howl. Just like that, there's a cab there to serve my every beck and call. Then some asshole comes out of nowhere, and there goes my insta-ride. I just blinked and it was gone. My cab… Goddammit. Goddammit. I think I was just demoted from Expert Cab Catcher to Dead Best Friend.

"What the hell!" I shout at the top of my lungs. I am so pissed. Tiffany is going to kill me if I'm late for this. What was _wrong_ with city people? "I'm going to be late you asshole!" I shout at the cab from the middle of the street. The cab that is currently zooming away with someone else other than _me_ in it. I want to throw a temper tantrum, but people are already staring at me the way it is.

A horn, right behind me, scares the living daylights. I whirl around and came face to face with Dante. He's smirking at me, astride half a ton of metal horse. Dante guns the engine. Trish pulls up besides him on her own motorcycle.

"You," he studied me a for a moment, "Lor wasn't it?" I nod.

"Hey, Lor," Trish smiled. "What are you doing out here by yourself? Vergil abandon you already?"

"Fuck him," I told her, steamed. "I just got my fucking cab stolen! Some asshole stole my fucking cab!" I was angry enough to spit nails and kill kittens. Trish started laughing.

"Where are you heading?" Trish asks. Dante leaned forward over the gas tank, eyeing Trish. He's not wearing a helmet, and neither is Trish, though her hair is tied up in a long blond braid.

"I need to get to City Hall. I should have been there ten minutes ago," I said. I want to tell her about Tiffany getting hitched but she's not listening anymore. She throws a helmet at me.

"For surviving the marrionetts," she said winking. "Hop on." Dante snorted.

"Survived as in she got her ass kicked?" Dante asked. Trish made a face at him. I stared at the two of them. They've met me once and they're willing to give me a free ride? That's incredibly…kind. Weird…but decent. I wouldn't have believed it would come from two half demons.

"You going to put that on or stand in the street all day?" Dante demanded impatiently.

"Right," I strapped the helmet on. "You don't have to go out of your way or anything. Just drop me nearby and I can walk or hail down another cab or something." Trish waved her hand, dismissing the idea. She made a face at me.

"I said I'd get you there. Hop on!" Trish smirked suddenly. "You can help me settle a debate Dante and I were having."

I should have asked about their little 'debate' before I climbed on behind Trish. But I figured what the hell, you know? As long as I got there. The millisecond I was settled behind Trish she gunned the engine and took off, nearly throwing me from the bike. I looked over and Dante was popping a wheelie right next to us. And then we were off. They just kept picking up speed, weaving in-between traffic, like it was some kind of game. If you ask me, they were pretty neck in neck. Stop lights and stop signs weren't even suggestions. They were non-existent, just another shapeless blur in the tunnel of colors we were riding in. My eyes were tearing from all the wind.

"Whoooooooo!" Trish shouted. We had just beaten a semi through an intersection by mere seconds. Dante went over it using another car for a ramp. Oh, man, half demons are hell hounds on the wheel. Five minutes later, we stopped in front of City Hall. We had beaten Dante by half a foot at ninety miles per hour before coming to a hairpin stop. My helmet was on, but I felt it dangling somewhere around my neck.

"Let me off," I moaned. Trish was laughing. I stumbled off the bike and began looking for a brush in my bag. I was vaguely surprised I even have a bag still.

"Take that you show off," Trish said to Dante. "I just kicked your ass devil boy."

"I went easy on you. I figured you'd need a head start what with a human passenger," Dante replied smirking. I was struck by how different Dante and Vergil were then, despite the fact that they looked so much alike. And I mean, it really went home. Dante freely smiled and joked and jibbed, though at times he was as distant and cold as Vergil generally was. Come to think of it, maybe Dante and Vergil are more alike than I thought.

"Lame," Trish replied to Dante. She turned to me. "So how'd you like the ride?" I groaned.

"I appreciate the ride, but next time, I think I'll catch a cab all the same," I said kneeling down to the cement sidewalk in an attempt to pay homage to it. "You nearly gave me a heart attack with the semi thing."

"At least you're here," she responded.

"Yeah, and on time for a change," I replied faintly.

"Yeah well, trample the weak, hurdle the dead, right Trish?" Dante revved his engine. "Ready for round two?" Trish raised her eyebrows at him. I just shook my head.

"You guys are crazy," I told them chuckling. "Thanks for the ride."

"Whatever," She called to me as the two of them took off again. They really were crazy. Guess I'd go crazy too if I didn't have to fear things like they didn't have to. I turned and entered City Hall, pulling on my hair with the comb. Ten minutes later my hair was combed out and I was in the right room, about two minutes early too. Maybe it was worth the risk of bodily injury and nausea if Trish and Dante could get me to places on time.


	24. Thalis

That Vergil getting into another fight. What is it with the sons of Sparda? They just seem to attract trouble don't they? Enjoy!

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**General Thalis**

"General Nero Angelo. Did you know there's a high price for your head?" the demon hissed, opening one clawed hand long enough for the sharp nails to catch the dim light. It's eyes were a deep midnight purple in the night. The florescent city lights played with the deep shadows it's aura cast. General Thalis, head of the insects. His countenance was hideous to behold, he had four spindly clawed arms and the most unpleasant looking pincers within his mouth. Vergil smirked. Thalis's face was one of the final reasons he had left hell.

"General Thalis," Vergil greeted him courteously. He looked out across the city. How many other demons would the Queen send? Thalis was proof enough that the Queen was getting impatient with his absence. "Pleasant night isn't it?"

"Sparda's own blood," the demon spit on the ground, growling. It was driving Thalis mad to serve as the queen's Royal lap dog. _Not pleasant is it_? Vergil thought. "The Queen requests your presence. Should you go of your own will, you will be treated as due your honor."

"It's going to be a clear night tonight," Vergil replied looking up to the sky. "Tell me Thalis, have you ever been topside long enough to see the full moon? Or a thunderstorm for that matter?" Verigl spared the demon a glanced. "No of course not." The demon General growled.

"I don't know why the Queen wastes her time on whelps like you. Your predecessor was far more-" In a flash yamato was neatly balanced between the unprotected jointing of Thalis's second left arm and body. Blinking, Thalis stared at the blade and then to it's owner. His eyes flashed blue in the night…and for a moment, Thalis could have sworn he was staring at the legendary dark knight himself.

"You were saying?" Vergil asked him quietly. Thalis began to laugh, a wheezing buzzing sound that rung in Vergil's ears.

"I was hoping it would come to this," Thalis hissed. Like lighting, silver streaked through the air. He was too close, Thalis was faster than he had anticipated, even with all his years of experience, avoiding them all was impossible. The two separated between the space of two heart beats. Vergil felt his aura expanding, filling yamato with his own desires, making the blade hum with bloodlust. He narrowed his concentration to the single task of killing Thalis, but not before he felt the sliver wide hairline cuts and the Queen's own particular metal leeching away at his own aura. He felt his own noble demonic blood flowing down his cheek from a wound below his left eye. Sloppy. He was getting sloppy living topside.

His iron will control was complete as he pushed away the dark rage licking away at his body. The heat of the change almost imposed itself upon him. There was no need to change in order to kill Thalis. One merely needed a boot to kill a bug, nothing more. Determined, Vergil pushed the change away.

"The great General Thalis would rely on others to win his battles?" Vergil taunted him.

"You are excrement from my boot, Halfling," Thalis hissed, enraged. The insectile wings buzzed, humming in their effort to raise Thalis into the night sky. Screaming with the effort, Thalis summoned the silver spiked gauntlets. Spinning his sword, Vergil blocked the finely spiked metal shards the final apparition summoned. No doubt gifts from the queen to Thalis for his efforts. Vergil smirked. This would be easier than anticipated.

"Then let us finish this." The two were at each other. It would be a long fight, both were accomplished warriors of hell. Both were Generals of the unholy armies of the hell. Both wanted to tear the other's head off. Vergil could only manage a satisfied smirk. He would enjoy killing Thalis.

**Healing Trail**

Walking home was an exercise in self-pity. I hadn't given Tiffany and Josh their wedding present, dammit. They'd been happy though, but Josh had pulled me aside. Said he needed to talk to Tiffany in private. What was so important that Josh had to tell Tiffany in private? Well, at least I'd get to sleep some more. I'd been doing that a lot lately. Not a usual occurrence for me, but they were the only things getting rid of these headaches.

What the hell? _Vergil_… I shook my head, ouch, not another headache. The skin over my heart was tingling. What's going on? I felt around in the gathering darkness and my finger tips found the source, they immediately started to tingle on contact. It was the necklace Vergil gave me. It was even faintly glowing in the evening shadows. I could just barely see the yellowish-reddish glow as I held the trinket up to my face. What the heck did that mean? Was Vergil trying to tell me something? Or maybe it was a just a weird ass trinket he gave me to mess with my head. That asshole.

I kept walking, ignoring the trinket. It was pretty hard to do after a while, because it glowed brighter with each step it took. The numb feeling kept spreading as well. Then the weirder stuff started to happen-like a glowing doo-dad given to me by a half-demon was weird enough. I took a left turn, heading home, and the freaking thing actual _hurt_. It felt like I'd been hit by a cheer stick and left for dead. I don't know why but something just didn't feel _right_. I groaned to myself. I'd actually knew I'd end up regretting this…

I turned around. The thing was still glowing, but it was weaker than before. I took a couple steps forward. With each step, the light grew stronger and the tight pain in my chest relaxed it's hold over my heart. Okay, I guess that means I go in this direction. Why the hell did he give me this?

For the next two hours I wondered around, following the _feeling_ the amulet Vergil had given me. Christ, that sounded so stupid. At least creeps don't bother a pretty girl when she'd got an even creepier sparkling piece of jewelry hung around her neck. I was downtown when I finally got my first clue as to what it was the necklace wanted me to do.

I couldn't figure out what it was at first. It was a dark cobalt colored liquid as oil in the dark. It felt warm when I touched it, but it smelled like blood. It smeared like the blackest ink on my fingertips. In the faint streetlight it looked a lot like blood, deep red colored blood with a weird blue sheen to it. Wiping it off on my jeans, I went back to the dark ally I had found it in. Looking closely, I could see it splattered all over the ally walls. By then the trinket had given out. Perfect. Stumbling I carefully moved down the ally, just as slowly I came to a halt.

"Well, surprise, surprise," I muttered.

There was Vergil, the source of the dark liquid trail, slumped against a wall in the ally. His sword was gripped in his hand loosely, and blood was decorating his jacket like a gory fashion statement. Was that his? All of it? Not by a long shot. No single living thing had that much blood in it. What could have done this to Vergil? Check that, _who_ could have done this to Vergil? Vergil's stupid jacket was all cut up too. What a shame… This was the first time ever I've see Vergil look like he'd actually been in a fight, instead of the sleek Mr Conversation I was used to. He didn't bother acknowledging me. Figures. Further down the alleyway, I heard something. A soft, whining sound that reminded me of a mosquito on it's last legs. God, it was annoying. The sound died as I neared Vergil. With a sigh, Vergil leaned a shoulder against the wall, staring at something in the blackness of the ally.

"Vergil?" I scooted forward a little. Did he hear me? "Vergil?" I asked again. He looked at me with hooded eyes, his sword flashed in the dim light. "Are you alright?" Stupid question. Vergil looked at me and said nothing. He winced and slowly started to slide down the brick wall. "Hey!" I reached for his sword, he was going to cut himself open the state he was in. And the last thing he needed to do now was get into a fight with some demon, even I could tell that. It wasn't easy, getting him to drop his sword, he had a death grip on the damn thing.

"Gimme your goddamning sword you moron, you're hurt," I snapped, wrapping my hand around the pommel. He would slice me open in the state he was in. "Gimme your sword or I'm gonna bitch slap you with it," I growled. He slid further down the wall staring at me blankly before finally releasing his sword. I knelt down after glancing down the ally one more time. If what was down there, what I thought was down there… I looked back to Vergil. He stared at me with unfocused blue eyes. He was fading on me. "What did you do this time?" I demanded. At that, a wry smile touched his lips.

Then he closed his eyes, thankfully he kept breathing. His breath was light, but regular. Damn him, job number 3 of a demon's partner: babysitting. Slowly I put the sword in it's case, like I'd seen him do.

"Come on Vergil, let's clean you up," I said. Dammit, why did I have to do this? I didn't want to be his babysitter. I could just leave him here…yeah, sure I could, and then feel like a guilty worthless idiot till Vergil came and killed me off for leaving him in the first place. He got rid of Cage, that alone warranted a little help from me. Besides, I wasn't entirely sure he was out for good. He better be able to hear me because if he freaked out when waking up and tried to cut my head off we were going to have words. Slowly, I got Vergil to his feet, leaning him between me and the wall for support. He was heavy. Holy cow, was he heavy. What did he eat, lead? Ah Christ, and I had to lug his heavy ass back home? Vergil you suck…


	25. Nurse Lauren

Hmm...I'm starting to think Lauren may havea heart after all...at least when it comes to kids anyways. Enjoy!

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The cab ride home cost an extra 50 dollars on account that Vergil didn't stop bleeding the entire time. That was a quarter of my food and cigarette money right there. Of course, the elevator in my apartment complex doesn't work, that would be to damn convenient. I had rest a few times in the stairwell on the way up to my floor. What did Vergil do, make a point of carrying around fifty pounds of metal on his person at any given time? Another pointless question. Even my front door wouldn't open until I rested Vergil against a wall and propped the it open. I've noticed that sometimes the door will automatically open and close for me on it's own. It must've been the half-demon side of Vergil it was reacting to. I actually had to explain what I was doing to a door. Vergil better appreciate this. After that the door stayed propped open only long enough for the two of us to squeeze through.

Once inside, I laid Vergil down on the kitchen floor, he was alive, he was breathing, he would probably survive for a few more minutes with out care. I could clean blood off of linoleum, but not off of my pathetic rugs or my bed sheets. Who knew how long Vergil was going to be out of it? Was bleeding this heavily normal for half demons? When I returned with gauze, he was still out, but his breathing had returned to normal. The fifty pound weapons came off first. It was caked with stuff that I didn't bother to stop and recognize. I peeled off his jacket next. His blood had soaked though it. Maybe that's why he always wore a blue trench coat? Must save on the cleaning bills if your blood just blends in with the fabric. There were small cuts all over his skin. Weren't half-breeds suppose to be tougher than this?

I began cleaning his face off. There was a cut on his left cheek that was still oozing blood. Running a cloth over it, I felt a bump there. A solid bump. What the heck? Cuts don't swell unless they're infected, and I doubted normal bacteria was strong enough to survive a half-demon's immunity system. From what I knew demons usually didn't behave this way, not unless they were hurt pretty bad. I picked at the cut till the little bump came out of his skin. It was metal, about the size of my pinky nail. Oh _yuck_. How had metal been embedded into Vergil's skin? On second thought, maybe I didn't want to know. When I looked back, the cut was gone. He had completely healed and without scarring, all that was left was a small amount of blood were the cut had been. Half Demons, they get all the luck. That must be handy if you're always getting the crap beat out of you by other demons. No wonder Vergil put on the inferiority complex so much, half-demons must be nearly impossible to kill. I felt a chill go down my spine I chose to ignore. No way in hell Vergil was from the Order, if he was he'd be dead. Well at least that was one question answered.

I had to get Vergil's shirt off. The blood stains had spread so much that it looked like he was wearing a red shirt instead of a white one. Oh man. What if he woke up and I was undressing him? Then what? Well, at least it was with a good intentions, it would be more than he could say if the situation was reversed. I took a deep breath and started working on the shirt buttons, it took twice the amount of time that it should have since I stopped to see if he was awake every five seconds. Somehow I had envisioned this scenario happening little differently…

Once I got his shirt open, it was easier to understand the mile of blood I had followed. Damn Vergil was built. I should've become a nurse, except that I really didn't like huge open gushing wounds or hospitals for that matter, having spent so much time in them. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy my share of creating gushing wounds, but I hate to look at them. Like the one Vergil was sporting nestled in his wash board abs. It was almost healed, save for the part were I could see the same silver metal peeping out of his skin. I hate my life sometimes… I held my breath as I sunk my fingers into his stomach. There was a three and a half inch piece of metal embedded under his skin. I shuddered as I dropped the shard into the tiny water bowl sitting next to me. This was so not my thing. I was going to get sick all over my blood covers clothes. Dammit, this was three outfits he owed me now. What was with the old scar tissue surrounding this particular wound? If half-demons healed so fast, what had hurt Vergil so bad that he was scarred from it? Bet you there was a story behind it, but then, we all have our little secrets don't we?

All in all, Vergil had about twenty three or twenty nine pieces of metal scattered underneath his skin, slowing down the advanced healing process he had. There were no more cuts after I was done, except for the large one on his abs. If I had left a metal shard in there he was tough out of luck, because I wasn't digging around in him again. I sighed. He probably wouldn't wake up anytime soon, he'd lost too much blood. Great…an unconscious half demon was spending the night. Talk about the sleepover from hell.

I bandaged up Vergil the best I could, which was harder than it had to be as he was being an unco-operating ass, like usual. After that, I had to drag him over to my bed. The jerk had better appreciate this. He was sleeping in _my_ bed on _my_ black silk sheets. Nobody should sleep in _my_ bed but _me_. Good riddance, Vergil said humans were a pain, well he wasn't a walk in a field of daisies either. He sure as hell better behave himself when he got up. Sighing I turned on my stereo and started cleaning up the mess. Dammit…I was stuck sleeping on the couch…what a bitch….

Vergil woke up slowly. He didn't know where he was, but recalled what had happened vividly. He saw Thalis, lapping his blood up like a dog. The bitch had died slowly for that…so the Queen was getting impatient, was she? Unfamiliar sounds pulled at Vergil's consciousness as he drifted in and out. The sound of children laughing, of a guitar being strummed occasionally, the tinkling sound of glass and shells, the faint smell of smoke and cigarettes, an nearly overpowering smell of flowers at times. Slowly, Vergil opened his eyes. Where….? Where the hell was he?

Casting around Vergil eyed the silk sheets he laid on and the wall of red velvet. The walls were black and there were no windows. It was like falling asleep in a pit of hell…strangely enough that was reassuring. The occasional breeze would push the curtains aside revealing Lauren's worn apartment. So that's where he was…how had he ended up here? Memories came slowly…Lauren finding him, much to his mild surprise. She had looked scared for a few seconds. A moment later she'd looked angry, any and all fear completely hidden behind her yellow eyes. She'd snapped at him annoyed, she'd been angry…Vergil faintly remembered bleeding heavily. It had been a good fight and Thalis's last moments had been painful. It was a fight that had cost him, if he was here, but it had been a good fight worth every second of his time.

The velvet curtain was pushed aside, drawing Vergil's attention. It was a child. A small girl child with platinum blond hair. She looked nothing like Lauren save for her pale skin. ….Was she Lauren's child? Odd, the girl didn't smell of Lauren's blood. He realized he knew nothing of Lauren, save that she had annoying love for smoking cigarettes and never shut up. Yet even when she talked, she never actually revealed much about herself. That woman, she was being as elusive as himself. He felt a wary grin touch his lips. Who would've thought Lauren could actually hide things from him? The girl looked at him silently. Vergil said nothing and stared at her blankly through hooded eyes.

"Jillian, come away from there," Lauren's voice. "Let the guy be. Mrs. D's up on the roof, she says we're going to plant some flowers. Wanna try?" Smiling back at Vergil the little girl left. Warily, he fell into oblivion.


	26. Chiropractor Headache

Chiropractor anyone? jk Enjoy!

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Vergil didn't wake up for the next three days. I was half worried that he'd die on me. I don't know what I was thinking. I actually am starting to believe he refuses to die just so I can't sleep in my own bed the jerk. Not that I'd have any idea what the hell I'd do with his cadaver if he ever did bite the big one. In any case he was hanging in there. At least I didn't have to worry about him going through my stuff when I was at work and he was exactly were I left him when I came back home. I'm starting to think Vergil is nicer when he's unconscious. 

The day Vergil finally woke up was perfect. Perfect weather, perfect sun, perfect blue sky. That day I was also watching Jillian and Will for Elizabeth Jones again. This time Elizabeth had to pull a daytime shift and the sitter had called in sick at the last moment. Thus I was summoned with the promise of free cookies and dirt digging. What's a better combo than mud and cookies?

Mrs. D was showing the three of us how to plant everything from carrots to cacti. She had a green house on the rooftop. It smelled like heaven, if such a thing is possible. Mrs. D was doing an amazing job of replicating it for a nosey old biddy. I was retuning my guitar while Will and Jillian learned the proper watering techniques for small domesticated roses.

"Mommy's home," Jillian sang suddenly. "Mommy's home! I'm going to give her this! Bye bye Lor!" I looked up into Jillian's messy face, she was holding a dark scarlet rose that smelled like candy. Jillian is the photonegative of her brother. Blond platinum hair, pretty blue eyes, fair skin too. Will was the dark brooding one, with the brown-black movie star hair and black eyes you could fall into. Of the two of them Jillian was the more outgoing one.

"Sure honey," I told her. Slowly Will approached me as Jillian said good bye to Mrs. D.

"Thank you, Lor," Will said quietly.

"No problem," I shrugged strumming my guitar. It was still out of tune.

"You play well," he commented, watching me. "I can hear you at night sometimes, through the walls. It sounds lonely at night though. The darkness is always more evident in your music when you play at night." I stared at Will. What did he mean the 'darkness' was more obvious? How would he know what my darker side was anyhow?

"Whatever." I grabbed for a cigarette. I hadn't had one all day.

"I'd like to thank you Lor, you're a good friend. If you ever need anything, mother told me to tell you not to hesitate to ask. Mother believes she is indebted to you. No doubt it has something to do with Cage," Will said softly, looking at his hands.

"What?" I asked quietly. I sucked on my cig and sized him up.

"Mr. Cage gets released from the hospital soon," Will said. I felt my throat close up. Coughing I tried to exhaled without choking. Cage had been in the hospital for nearly a month? Too bad Vergil's little love taps hadn't killed him. I wonder…is he still possessed? Fingers crossed.

"Is he?" I asked Will softly after I'd recovered. "I doubt you need to worry too much, he cann't walk right?" Will nodded.

"Why couldn't you have killed Cage?" Will asked. There was a quiet heat to his words. "Why is he still alive? He's worthless, the entirety of his life is. Why didn't you kill him?" Will looked at me with dark eyes were detached. I know that look, he wanted bloody justice. Almost as much as I did.

"What's wrong Will, you don't believe in Karma?" I mused. "Believe me, he'll die, and when he does, it'll be a lot more painful than staying alive." If what Vergil said was anything to go on. Will stared at me, confused. I gave him a sad grin, as I felt the cigarette smoke burning my throat. "Go home Will, say hello to your mother for me."

"Good night Lor. I'm sorry if I was rude," Will started walking to the fire exit. Just as well, the sun was setting, time for me to get inside as well.

"Don't worry about it," I shrugged. That wasn't rude, that was normal. I sighed and stood up as I watched him walk away. I'd better go check on Vergil. At least he wouldn't put a guilt trip on me.

I was covered in mud. What a way to spend the day. I had to take off my shoes before I dropped onto my couch through the sun light in the ceiling. My poor guitar, I'd smudged it with mud. Nothing a little bit of cleaning wouldn't fix, however, I was taking a shower first. I don't' know how I did it, but I had dirt smeared across my face and all over my arms. Not to mention the dirk caked on my jeans. At least this time it'd wash out in the laundry, unlike a certain half demon's blood I could mention.

Vergil was still out when I passed through my room to the closet. He hadn't even moved. Lazy bum. Quietly, I closed my closet door and began to strip down. I hope like hell he got up soon, I needed a decent night's sleep, the couch was uncomfortable as hell. Yawning I wrapped a bath towel around myself, reaching for my robe I shrugged it on. A hot shower would be nice after such a long and messy day.

Vergil sniffed, it was water. And dirt. He smelled water and dirt. Stirring he pulled himself to full consciousness. Lor's apartment came into focus. Easily he sat up, listening to the running water off in the distance. Stretching he noted the bandages. It was almost amusing for a moment, almost, before it became an annoyance. He doubted he had needed them for quite as long as he'd been wearing them, still he was careful in removing them. Apparently Lauren had experience in bandaging. Rising to his feet, Vergil strode out into the main room of the girl's apartment.

It was empty. The skylight was propped open, catching the last of the sun's fading rays. On the stove a small kettle of water boiled. On her couch the raggedy teddy bear sat, smothered in layers of blankets. She was sleeping on the couch? How had she been able to use the amerhurst in the first place? Something about Lauren didn't add up.

He studied the amazing amount of empty Advil bottles on her counter. There were nearly seven and an eighth bottle already half empty. How could she down half of that let alone all of it? Even he couldn't take that much medication in such sort time period. What wasn't Lauren telling him? That and the fact that he knew virtually nothing about her was somewhat surprising. Lauren seemed to be a loose end on all accounts. It would be a while before the queen knew of her existence, that didn't put her completely out of danger however. Especially if Lauren had some live skeletons in her closet. It was something to keep in mind.

The tea was going off. Guess that shower had lasted a little too long. Oh well. Humming, I headed to the kitchen after shrugging on some pj's and my robe. I could do with a quiet night, my head was pounding with the beginnings of another headache. I was hoping a healthy dose of tea would get rid of them.

I should have known Vergil would pull a stunt on me, the jerk. I thought he was still out as I poured myself some water from the kettle. By then the head ache was in full swing, it was an effort just to pour my water. God, they were getting worse. A sharp, steady pain at my left temple and behind my left eye was increasing by the ten folds. It felt like the gnome brigade had traded in their jackhammers for rusty acupuncture needles.

The pain got so bad so quick, that for a moment I couldn't see anything, the world literally went black, like my eye had gone blind. _Both_ of them this time. God this hurt. Gasping, I held onto the counter for support, even as I felt the kettle filled with boiling water slip from my grasp. Oh shit. That was going to hurt like a bitch when it splattered all over my feet.

"Having difficulties?" he asked. The sound of his voice made me jump, which didn't help the headache. Turning, I saw he was holding the kettle, regarding me with a flat expression and a raised eyebrow. Casually he set the tea kettle down on the stove. "Do you always drop hot water on your feet?" I sighed massaging my head.

"I have a headache," I muttered. Carefully I seeped the baggie into the water letting it turn a muddy tan color. I held onto the cup with both hands as I blew on the tea. "You want some?" He said nothing. I hadn't thought so. Vergil kept studying me as I mixed in sugar and ground up Advil tablets. I can't stand to swallow those things dry anymore, or with water for that matter. I suppose I'm building an endurance to them. What the hell did he think was so interesting?

"Anything you need in particular?" I asked annoyed. "Your stupid sword is in the sink."

"Frog pajamas?" he asked, the beginning of a smirk on his lips.

"Don't be an ass or you'll be wearing my tea," I snapped. I shuffled past him into my living room. I needed to sit down, the world was starting to spin a little on it's axis. I've never had a headache this bad. The tea was gone in record time and it didn't do me a bit of good. Laying down, I cuddled with Gram, piling the blankets high. My poor head…what was triggering these head aches? I wonder if I could get away with blaming them on Vergil.

"You're quieter," Vergil commented approvingly. He had his sword in hand. Casually he sat on the floor and began to clean it. "What's wrong? Little Lauren doesn't like headaches?" Vergil smirked, looking across the room to me. Yuck it up demon boy. Laying on the couch I didn't bother saying anything. Instead I watched him clean his sword. Never seen anyone do that up close.

"What was in the ally?" I asked after a few moments.

"A demon who was foolish," Vergil replied simply, a grin on his face, "he died slowly." First time I'd seen him grin and he was talking about who he had killed. Figures.

"You sleep with the teddy bear?" Vergil asked, his voice was laced with amusement. I stared at him across the dim room, not bothering to reply. Raising an eyebrow, he stood and walked over to me. "No retort? No comment? Interesting. Are you sure you're not dying?" I snorted.

"Well you're here," I replied flatly. My stomach was actually starting to roll. "I just have a headache."

"So you think your dear little teddy bear is going to make it all go away?" Vergil asked sarcastically. I didn't appreciate his tone. He can insult me, I don't care. I can defend myself, but he can't insult my memories. I won't fucking stand for it. I pushed myself up on my elbow, grinding my teeth together.

"Okay bozo, here's the rundown: I scrapped you off the cement, I let you stay here, and made sure you were okay," I growled warily. "You slept in _my_ bed, which, believe me, _no one_ does. You can afford some manners right now, seeing as I'm allowing you the use of my bed for tonight as well. So _shut up_ about my damning teddy bear, you jackass. And since you asked, _yes_ it _does_ help." Chew on that demon boy.

"How so?" he asked smirking.

"Bite me," I snapped, glaring at him.

"I wouldn't dare, Lauren, I've no idea where you've been," he replied chuckling. I didn't bother to reply this time. I bet he gets a kick out of baiting me like this.

"At least I wasn't bleeding to death in an ally way four days ago," I snarled. I did not need his shit. It wasn't helping my head.

"I could fix that if you wanted me to," he smirked, his eyes cold.

"Go away," I moaned. "You're hurting my head." I rolled over squishing Gram to me. Aside from Tiffany, this stuffed teddy bear was all I had left of my family.

"I could fix that as well," he said quietly. "If you would allow me to." I snorted and glanced over to him. Was he asking for permission or being a jerk? With him I never knew.

"How?" I asked warily. Reaching out like greased lightning, he twisted my neck and head till I heard nearly every joint pop or crack. "OW!" I sat up, holding my neck. "What the hell was that?" I demanded. He regarded me with another smirk on his face. "Quit smirking!" I snapped. "That hurt! What did you do that for?"

"Do you still have a headache Lauren?" he asked calmly.

"No, but that hurt!" I snapped before thinking. Wait a minute… my head really didn't hurt. I stared at him blankly, blinking. "How did you do that?" I asked surprised. He shook his head and tucked his hands into his pockets.

"I simply pinched the pain receptor nerves. However, it's not permanent."

"You messed with my spine?" I asked him mildly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Would you rather that I snap it?" I gave him a dirty look.

"I never said I wasn't grateful, you jerk," I grumbled. "You should really consider giving someone a heads up before you're going to go messing with their spine."

"You should consider taking less advil," he replied flatly. I yawned. "Another thing," he added watching me with a bemused expression. "Cutting off the pain receptors also has a side effect of premature sleep." Christ, I knew what he had done. It was the same thing he'd done to me when we'd visited the Hellsmith.

"You jerk," I muttered as I fell backwards onto the couch. He said nothing as he watched me, a smirk never leaving his face. I could literally feel my breathing slowing down and my muscles relaxing. My eyelids felt like thousand pound weights. It wasn't long before everything faded out entirely and the nightmare started.

They were back again, why? My body hurt so much. On the far wall I could see strips of my flesh nailed up and drying. The man in white was there again, clicking his knife fingers together like a screwed up version of Edward Scissor-hands The woman in black was over me, reading from her book of secrets. I didn't want their secrets, why was I here? My own secret, where was it? It was fading away… The woman stopped droning, and the white coat leaned forward, fingers clicking together faster, as if they were a performing band. Then he was carving my arm up, slowly peeling the flesh off. I watched him do this and then I began to scream…it wasn't because of the painful secret. I was the fact that I was already dead.


	27. The Order

Shorter Chapters coming at ya! I realize they've been quite long for a while now, so here's some relief! Enjoy!

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**The Order of Things in Silent Hill**

I woke up to a pitch black room, drenched. It was raining, but I was pretty sure it hadn't been just rain water that was soaking me. Christ. Damn nightmares…

The next time I woke up was to the buzzing of my radio alarm. I groaned and pulled my head off of the pillow. Why had I even set that thing? The alarm was killed as quickly as it went off. There was a crunch sound as it went silent. Leaning over I saw Vergil resheathing his sword. He was leaning against the far wall, sword next to him. Did he sleep that way the whole night? Stubborn ass. I sighed and pushed myself up so I was sitting, my legs were stiff from being curled up all night. I glanced at Vergil, he was watching me through hooded eyes, nearly asleep as I was. I pushed off the half dry, half wet blankets and pulled up one dry one that had been wedged under the couch. It would do. I curled up again and fell asleep.

When I finally woke up for good, it was dark and hazy outside. The sky was a pukey gray color. Must've been a rainy day, I'm kinda glad I slept it away. I groaned and got up. Gram was wide eyed, asking me why I'd been sleeping the day away. He was worried, he said it wasn't like me to do such un-me things. I told him to shut up or he could forget about a dinner tonight. Gram shut up, he must've been as hungry as I was.

Where was Vergil? I looked around. No sign of tail or hide of him. Maybe he went home or something. Ah whatever, there was no reason for me to expect something as simple as a good-bye or even a thank you. Still…I grumbled to my self into my bathroom past the broken pieces of my alarm clock. It took me a minute to remember the significance of that alarm clock. This alarm was the one I only pay attention to when I need to go shopping…or for work. Swearing I rushed into the bathroom. I was late for work. Mega late. Damn you Vergil.

Not only was I late for work that day, which meant boss Joe really had a ball chewing me out, it was also grocery day. I needed more veggies and fruits and some bread. It started raining again as I walked home loaded with groceries. I moaned. Couldn't I get a lucky break anywhere? I walked on, only three more blocks to go. The cars zooming by were starting to get annoying. They were spraying me with oily water. Bastards. America needs less cars and more mass transit services. I didn't see the big van pull up behind me, nor did I hear the back door slid open. The only thing I heard was my groceries dropping onto the wet pavement as some one slid a funny smelling cloth in front of my mouth and nose.

**The Lady Next Door**

"Why exactly have you called me here?" the Dhampire asked coolly. She didn't normally do this, but lately Rayne found that she was doing many things she didn't normally do. Like not killing the target of a brimstone assignment or perhaps to fail to complete the objective issued by a well paying fey client. The whole thing stuck in her throat like goat's blood. What did a blue collar waitress have anything to do with the fey? With practically anything, save for an unusual amount of knowledge and lack of fear? That wasn't a usual assignment, the girl had been right there, but that wouldn't have been an assassination. Rayne had been asked to murder her, should the girl fail to comply with the fey client's wishes. It would have been cold blooded murder. A silencing. Rayne had to wonder why.

"I know you had to go through a lot of trouble to meet me here like this," the woman began. Rayne thought about the street war she had run into wryly. Baby vampire boys who thought it was funny to mess with girls who appeared defenseless. Thug blood didn't taste that good, perhaps she should avoid it for a while? "You see the thing is I think my children…I think they're Dhampire." Rayne stared at the woman with dead eyes.

"What do you mean you '_think'_ they're dhampire?" Rayne asked dryly. "What the hell does babysitting have anything to do with me?"

"They're not…not like you," the woman said slowly, wisely deciding to choose her words carefully. She looked abnormally wan by the lamp light, her face was etched with premature wrinkles. "They're not fifty fifty dhampire humans, but more like seventy five and twenty five, in favor of the human bloodline." She rolled up her long white sleeves and showed Rayne the bite marks. Some were fresh, others were old and scarred over. Rayne's face remained impassive, but she felt a twinge of shock. It was unusual that the woman was still alive. She was lucky that her children hadn't lost control while they had been leeching mommy.

"Quarter blooded Dhampire?" Rayne asked her. There shouldn't have been any other Dhampire of half and half blood mix in the area, especially those descended of Kagan, which should have included all dhampire Rayne knew of. She had seen to their destruction personally. Kagan was dead, her city still flourished, even when the shroud had been reluctantly brought down. The Brimstone society had had a hand in that, as they were on speaking terms after several years of misunderstanding. Still, children obviously spawned off of another dhampire. Unnerving. The woman before her was pure human. "Their father was dhampire?"

"I believe so," the woman visibly shuddered. Tears started leaking at the corner of her eyes. "I thought he was just different, I didn't know how much." Rayne watched the woman cry impassively.

"What is his name?" Rayne asked flatly. Finally something entertaining to do. The woman looked up sharply at Rayne, stifling a small gasp.

"What will you do?" she whispered.

"Kill him," Rayne replied bluntly. The woman stared at her for a moment, then her face hardened. Swallowing she nodded her head in agreement.

"Do that if you must, but please the real reason I asked you to come tonight, my children, they haven't…aged, and they have so much anger, so much confusion. I was hoping you might enlighten them on their true nature? Mayhap," the woman took a deep breath, "you could watch over them when I die? Would that be too much to ask?" the woman held her breath. Rayne could hear the artificial sluggishness in her pulse. Children….they were just children, but there was no saying what they were capable of yet. Better to kill them first…still, Rayne was slightly aware she had been doing things she normally wouldn't do. This story was all too familiar with her.

"Fine," Rayne snapped. The woman's eyes lit up with hope. Rayne ground her teeth together. Stupid humans and their damn hope. "I want your husband's name," Rayne demanded.

"Ray, he called himself Ray Jones," Elizabeth Jones replied.


	28. Doctor Chop

Credit were it goes, the song lyrics are of the song_, Faces on my wall_, by Sally Fingerette. It's not too bad, I recomend listening to this song. Anyways, Enjoy!

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**If your head wasn't attached to your body…**

Vergil was up and walking, not quite healed yet, but that was never really a hindrance to him in the first place. He hadn't stopped walking since he'd left his own home a few hours ago, and Lauren's several hours before that. That human_ girl, _he couldn't stop wondering about her. Who was she? What was the game she was playing? Demonic auras surrounded her marking her as one of the underworld, yet she appeared oblivious even blissfully, ignorantly unaware of the demonic realm. Not to mention the picture of the Un-demon he had found in her backpack a few weeks ago. Yet there was something there. Something he could almost reach out and tear out of her little head if he were so inclined to. Sometimes he wondered if that's what it would come to when she got to be too annoying.

Vergil silently cursed to himself. Wouldn't Dante be having a ball if he knew his brother had been assisted by a mere human, too weak to help himself. Thalis shouldn't have been that difficult to defeat, with or without the queen's aura draining shards. Vergil pushed the mundane thoughts aside, not bothering to identify why they bothered him. There was no demon that should have dared as much, who should have had the knowledge and access to the royal metals. The queen was getting impatient.

Vergil stopped walking as he became aware of his surroundings. He'd been here before. Looking up, Vergil saw the unlit windows of the girl's apartment. Hmph. Key to the scion of balance or not, that girl was a danger to herself. Could she have possibly been a conspirator? No, Vergil shook his head disgusted, that would be giving her way too much credit. He turned on his heel and stalked off. It was going to rain soon, the temperature was dropping, there had been a motorcycle a few blocks back, parked in a garage that was otherwise unattended. Tonight would be a good night for a ride.

**Found on a scrape of paper belonging to the late Walter Sullivan**

**Patient 11A of Silent Hill Mental Institution**

"_To these faces on my wall_

_I will protect you_

_I make a vow to hold you dear_

_I'll speak your name year after year_

_Your voice will echo in my ear_

_You left your lessons here inside my heart…"_

_Mother…._

(_Faces on my wall_, by Sally Fingerette)

Well wasn't this something new. Silent Hill hadn't changed one bit. The sun still never showed it's face, the town was still run down and homely looking, the people still tried to go on with their daily lives while unsuccessfully attempting an oblivious attitude toward the depression and darker secrets the place boasted. I swear to god, I hate this place. If I ever get the opportunity, I'm going to burn it to the ground. The room I was in was silent and dark and held every thing ominous and creepy I feared when I was a little kid. Silent Hill is almost as notorious for it's crazy citizens as it is for its creepy history. It's my only hope that I don't become one of the whispered disturbing rumors the place boasts.

My eyelids..they were getting heavy…and my back was itching again. I was falling asleep, against my own will. The Order. The thought blazed through my head…it was the order…they had me…

I woke up in a sterile white room, which I couldn't see because it's dark. The walls were padded and my arms are bound. I can't move them for the life of me. I figure most of the sedatives have worn off by now. I know where I am and I wish I didn't.

I try to sit up, but that's a flop. The best I can do is inch myself up to rest against one of the walls. I'm still wearing my white work shirt, a pair of jeans, my combat boots and my new black tie. It figures I'd get kidnapped wearing everything I wore last time my life took a demonic turn for the worse. I still have Vergil's pendent that he gave me too. I can feel it against my skin like a cold lumpy stone underneath my shirt. It's the only thing that reassures me oddly enough, considering who gave it too me.

As my eyes slowly adjust to the dark quiet around me, I can finally make out what it is I'm wearing, a strait jacket. Crap. Something is very, very wrong, even for Silent Hill. The Order. That's the only explanation I can think of. Dammit. As much as I can accept this possibility, I'm not quiet ready for the sudden flair of light that bathes the room as the hidden door across from me is flung open. Someone's silhouette is there. A doctor, it's the first thing I make out. I hope he has good insurance, I'm so suing.

"Ah, I see the patient is awake," he says. That damn accent brings goose bumps to my flesh even now. I can literally feel the blood draining from my face. That voice is the one from my nightmares. The voice that made me wet my pants when I was little.

"Doctor Chop," I whisper.

"I see you remember me, very good. So is seeing you again, 7B. So good indeed. We have been waiting so patiently for your return, my girl," he stepped into the room. His hair's thinned out some, gotten gray too. He's gotten older, but no less menacing. He still wears his trade mark inch thick coke bottle glasses that magnify the hideous gray of his eyes. I notice the fresh red spots on the hem of his otherwise crisp, white doctor's jacket. I know why I'm here, and I wish, I wish, I wish, to god I didn't. Too bad my faith in God has flagged over the years.

"How long has it been, doc?" I ask casually.

"Too long my dear, about fourteen years if I recall correctly. You ran hard, I must say, we thought we'd never find you again. It was so silly of you really, to fall asleep like that. We thought it would be best for you if we brought you here, for your own safety, you understand," he's smiling at me. His goddamning canines are longer than they should be. The rest of his teeth are crooked and yellow. He reminds me of the Hellsmith in a way. It's the way he's looking at me, like a piece of rotting meat ready to be devoured.

"You do realize that Munchausen by Proxy is a mental disorder right?" I ask him. Then again so is operating with out any kind of a medical degree, but that never really deterred Doctor Chop.

"Ah, well, so is violent depression and delusional fantasies, my dear. We had to put you in a strait jacket just to protect you from yourself, you see?" I can't see his eyes, his glasses are glaring in the light. I'm acutely aware of being trapped like a rat in box. Shit, I am so screwed. If I get out of this alive, I'm swear to god I'm burning this place to the fucking ground. On my fucking soul I'm going to burn every last inch of this fucking place.

"Then let's get this over with," I snap, breaking the playful farce we've created. "And I want a goddamning cigarette."

"Very well, we shall begin at once," He smiles at me as he waves for his rent-a-cop medical staffers. He thinks he's won. He still thinks I'm a little girl, crying in cell room with a broken lock on the door. I'm going give him bloody hell.


	29. Will's Secret

Vergil warily walked up the familiar worn stairs of Lauren's apartment complex. The place was quiet; it was nearly one in the morning. He was not looking forward to waking her, as her disposition was particularly annoying, but it couldn't be helped. That _girl_, she had her wires crossed. Wake her up for a party and she would be there, wake her up for what may be the fate of the world, and somehow the story wasn't the same. He had been away for a several weeks and all the trails he had stumbled across were coming up as long cold or dead end ploys rigged by the Queen. So far, Lauren had provided him with one of the three key artifacts, her luck might prove useful tonight as well.

He paused, his senses twitching. There was the smell of blood on the air, he dismissed it. It was faint, most likely left-overs from the landlord. Then he turned the corner and discovered the boy. He was a pale thing, with dark brown black hair and black eyes. A child of the night, he'd seen them before, but never so young. The boy was sitting in the middle of the stair way holding a pigeon in both his hands. His small mouth was working furiously, draining the blood from the small creature. He was so focused on feeding, he didn't acknowledged Vergil until he was done with the small beast a moment later. The boy held the dead bird in his hands for a moment, revering his prey as so few did, before breaking it's neck and gently placing it in a shoe box next to him. For a young one, he had honor.

"Dead things don't feel pain," Vergil interrupted his silent reverie. He'd noticed the boy's hesitation. With a start, the boy looked up, Vergil watched as the panic flare and died in his young eyes. He rubbed the rouge from his lips as if by long time habit as his eyes trailed to the sword at Vergil's hand.

"I know," The boy said quietly, "I can't help it. Some one found….a girl at my old school, found one once, after I had thrown it away. We had to move because of that, so now, I have to make it look like the death was…different." He studied Vergil more closely. "You're the man who nearly killed Cage."

"I'm the one," Vergil acknowledged. What the hell, Lauren and her annoying mouth could wait for a few moments. He took a seat next to the boy. "It bothers you that he's still alive?"

"If you meant to kill him, then you're a sloppy killer," the boy replied. "If you didn't mean to, then you're a fool." Vergil closed his eyes briefly. A child critic.

"Why should I kill a worthless man? He's not worth the energy it would take to end his life," Vergil replied. This child wasn't a full dhampire, no dhampire could drain animal blood the way the boy had. Most would have been revolted by it, the same way vampires were. A lust for human-like blood was one trait the dhampire and vampire shared.

"The lives he affects aren't worthless. He hurt Miss Star, he tried to hurt my mother, he hurt the lady who lived next door to him seven years ago. I agree, he is pathetic, but the people he ends up hurting aren't," the boy pointed out. There was the quiet anger in his voice that Vergil could recognize and respect. He regarded the boy.

"How so?" Vergil asked. The boy stared at him, a look of puzzlement on his face. Vergil expanded his thoughts, aware that even if he did so, the boy still might be confused. "Humans all die eventually, does it matter the cause?"

"You know the answer to that question," the boy replied firmly. "Or at least you should. In any case she's not home."

"Pardon?" Vergil asked him. The _boy _must have been twice his apparent age. Vampire ages were worse to guess than demon ages. At least with demons, you knew the age to be at least over a thousand. The boy had any uncanny way of keeping the conversation off balanced, a peculiar ability vampires seemed to have in spades.

"Miss Star, she's not home. Hasn't been for the last couple of weeks, she left the day after you did. I don't know where to though. She might have left you a note, she does that you know. Leaves notes behind, people use to come to her house every night and sleep over. Mostly they were people who had no where else to go. She did that more when she wore black all the time. I've been wondering why none of them come by as much lately," the boy stood up, shoe box in hand. "I guess it's because she doesn't wear just black anymore." Vergil looked at the boy. He was making his mysterious bloodline proud with his latest little epitaph. What would wearing black have to do with people stopping by her home frequently?

"Do you know if she went searching for a specific artifact or antique?" Vergil asked. His hand brushed the hilt of his sword before edging away a moment latter. The boy was harmless enough. Nothing would come of killing him. The boy shrugged.

"If you're looking for that kind of stuff, you should go find the Empress. She left here an hour ago. If anyone knows about things like that, it would be Empress Blood Rayne," the boy went down a few steps before stopping and turning to face the half demon. "You can find her if you need to, my mother did. I think she wants the Empress to kill my father."

Vergil said nothing, but considered the advice. If it was sound he was indebted to the child but if it wasn't sound… Either way, it was a trail he hadn't had a few moments ago. That at the very least demanded a payment in return. A ghost of a smile dusted Vergil's lips, he had just the thing the boy would be interested in.

"If you truly want to kill the land lord, do it wisely. The rest will take care of itself, so long as you place the body at the bottom of the stair well," Vergil told the boy. The spirit bound into the man's flesh would be cursing his name long after the human's bones were ash, with any luck. He stood and brushed the dirt from his jacket.

"I'll keep that in mind," the boy said. "You should go find Miss Star if she doesn't return soon. My mother is still indebted to her, and to you as well, I guess. Should you ever want a favor, my name is Will, William Jones. My mother is Elizabeth." Without another word, the boy turned and left. After a moment Vergil did the same, heading in the opposite direction to Lauren's apartment.


	30. Mirror, Mirror

Lucia feigned an uppercut, dodged, and dove into a roll. As she came out of the roll, she flipped the waiting dart into her hand and let it fly. The last of the marionettes fell to dust and wooden pieces. There was way too many out tonight, this was the fourth roving party of marionettes she had come across that night. That made Lucia uneasy, something wasn't right. Whirling, Lucia threw three more waiting daggers into the figure hiding in the shadows at the far wall. They hit solid brick and cement. She could've sworn there had been something there….

"Hmm, you have impressive aim," a voice purred into her ear, "that's the closest anyone's come to nailing me in a while." Lucia spun, short sword arced out. It was met with another unforgiving stainless steal of the short sword family. Lucia gasped, recoiling. The figure before her could have been her mirror image; pale ivory skin, highlighted by the moon light, lush red lips and hair, and eyes as green as the grass in Ireland. She was staring at a mirror of herself, albeit a pale skinned, tight leather clad version of herself, if only a few inches shorter as well.

"And who are you?" Lucia demanded.

"An Empress," the other replied casually. "I'm looking for a man, the owner of the local meat packaging company among other things, it's called Ray-Ray's meats." She flipped her short swords inward with a flick of her wrists. That looked pretty convenient, Lucia thought, with the spring loaded hinges and the blades acting as part of your arm when not in use.

"Ray-ray's meats? The vampire owned Ray-ray's meats?" Lucia asked. Not a comfortable situation that rested on her little soul. Her own short swords were still out.

"Dhampire as it were," the woman replied.

"Since there's such a difference between the two," Lucia replied acidly. She lashed outward without warning, but the other was expecting that. Lucia wasn't expecting such ferocity behind a simple motion as blocking. But the other red head before her was glowing with an eerie red light, her eyes completely red. She was dhampire Lucia realized too late.

"_I'm_ Dhampire. I'm also half human. I wouldn't forget something like that if I were you, _half-demon_," she snapped. She lunged then, other short sword out and ready. They spared back and forth. The woman was good, Lucia had to admit. It was almost like the two had met in another life. Each knew the other's strengths and weaknesses instinctively and exploited it. Eventually the two broke apart, breathing heavy and sweating. The woman was smiling.

"You're good," Lucia said.

"You're not bad yourself, my sweet blooded Arcadian," the woman replied. Lucia winced. She'd noticed the accent. So many people commented on it in the city. Back home it hadn't been the slightest bit out of place. "What _is_ your name?" The dhampire smirked. "I need to know what to carve into your headstone after I'm done with you."

"Lucia. And you?"

"I am Empress BloodRayne of the local vampire nation," she smiled, drawing herself up proudly. She wore a look that could eat people alive. "Shall we finish this civilly?" She held up a blade to her mouth and started to lick it, the other blade flicked inwards. "You taste good," she murmured in a low throaty voice, her green eyes hooded. Lucia wasn't sure if she was flattered or disgusted by the comment. Very few people were descent in the city. It would figure that a Dhampire would be the only person who'd sincerely complemented her since her arrival.

"Right, civilly. You wanted to know about Ray-ray's? They've been out of business for a while," Lucia replied. She put her swords away, letting the red soaked blades slide easily into their brown leather sheaths. She'd clean them latter. It was only then she noticed the hairline cuts lacing her arms. They were healing, but still visible. A closer look at the dhampire showed the same situation. She was the slower healer of the two, something to remember for next time.

"No doubt," the dhampire replied patiently, licking her lips and fingers daintily. She was finished cleaning her blade.

"The meat packaging facility was three blocks over," Lucia replied. "I don't think you'll find much there, the place burnt down last year."

"Setback," the dhampire regarded Lucia for a moment. "Do you know anyone by the name of Ray Jones?" For the first time, Lucia was at a loss for words. Ray Jones. How could she have been so blind as to where the Ray-Ray's Meats questioning was going? Ray Jones was the leading development head of genetic sciences in the continent. He had a hand in helping Arius create herself and her sistren, a year ago, in Arius's bid to rule the world. Three months later she had burned as many of his meat packaging facilities as she could find down to the ground, anything to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Dear god, she would have burned them sooner if she had known he was a…

"Of course she knows him," a new voice said. Both woman reached for their swords at the new voice. Slowly Vergil came out of the shadows and into the alley way.

"Vergil," Lucia sneered at him. How could he have known about that? How did he know anything about her? Vergil ignored her.

"You're the Empress?" he asked the Dhampire.

"Hmmm well you know my name, and now I know both yours, to what do I owe the gods for this fortuitous night?" She sidled up to the new half-breed.

"Where can I find the jeweled tear?" Vergil asked her bluntly.

"Oh, so feisty," Rayne purred. "What are you willing to give me in exchange for this information?" Rayne ran her finger tips lightly over Vergil's chest.

"The location of Ray Jones," he replied looking down at her.

"That useless old thing?" Lucia asked Vergil. What did he want with an old useless jewel? She crossed her arms and took a step closer. "Is that what I think it is?"

"The one and the same sweetblood, the jewel said to be God's only tear, quite a rare thing according to some," Rayne tapped her ruby lips with a white delicate finger. "I suggest you go ask the darkling fey princess of glamour, she would know, she has the heart," Rayne smiled up at Vergil in the dark. She pressed herself closer to Vergil, her breasts rubbed up against him. "Anything else you need to know, sugar?"

"Anything you need to know Lucia?" Vergil asked looking to the construct, seemingly oblivious to the dhampire's administrations.

"You're going to kill Ray?" she asked the Dhampire. She had failed herself, she couldn't kill Ray Jones. Not when she had learned of his fledgling _human_ family. But that still hadn't stopped her from destroying his cover up business single handedly.

"Of course," Rayne moved from Vergil towards Lucia, eyeing her interested. "But I need to know where to find him before I can do that." She waited expectantly. Lucia looked to Vergil but his face was impassive. How was it that he was so different from Dante? Maybe she was more like Vergil than she realized, she just lacked the moral conviction of superiority that Vergil had, perhaps. The demonic will wasn't so strong with Lucia at times. Maybe that was why Dante had wanted Trish instead…

"Ray had a private retreat outside of city limits, near Basin Falls, an hour away from AshField," Lucia replied.

"Why thank you, sweetblood. Me and you are going to have to finish our little dual some time. Do you want the head as a gift from me to you?" she asked Lucia. So she'd heard the contained bitterness had she?

"Keep it to yourself, Empress," Lucia replied, her hands dangerously close to her throwing daggers.

"As you wish," she replied smugly, smirking. Then she was gone like a thief in the night.

"What was that about?" Lucia turned to Vergil. He was already leaving as well. "Vergil," she called to him sharply.

"Go to my brother, tell him what you've learned, he'll want to know," Vergil replied.

"While you get closer to the eye? The second of the three artifacts? How exactly do you propose we get the eye, if it can only be found by the key?" she asked his retreating back. "I'm not stupid. I do know the story, Vergil. We don't know who the key is," Lucia followed him.

"Then you're in the minority," Vergil replied flatly. "I would think you would remember her."

"It's a her?" Lucia asked mildly.

"Yes, you've tried killing her several times if I recall correctly. I need to recover her however. She's been missing for several weeks now," Vergil replied. Lucia stopped dead in her tracks. Silently she sent a small prayer to her island gods.

"I'll tell Dante," Lucia agreed. "Just one thing, before you leave, is the key to the scion that girl, that human of yours?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not, what does it matter? She's missing either way," Vergil replied warily.

"I see," Lucia said. She watched his retreating back, standing still in the warm night air. "How exactly do you misplace a human?" He said nothing, not bothering to reply and was gone a moment later. She left then as well, pushing into her demon form. She flew away on wings illuminated by moonlight.


	31. Shadow Master

Shifting view points from here on in, so let me know how itgoes. If the story slows down, let me know and I'll revise. Enjoy!

* * *

**Shadow Master**

"Do you understand what you are to do?" he asked in a grave voice. The dhampire's mouth twitched into a sly grin.

"Why of course I know what to do with such a generous gift," Raymund Jones replied. Gently he tipped the gem out of the red satin bag he held. It was a small electric green emerald. It was almost as if the gem beckoned one's eye and once the possessor of one's gaze, refused to let it go. Raymund was a lucky dhampire in that his blood carried few flaws and he certainly suffered no afflictions from holy objects. This gem alone was the most sacred of relics to the angels, after their Grail and their Chalice that was. Both of which had been 'misplaced' over the ages. Casually tossing the small gem in his hand, the dhampire regarded the man in the shadows. He had yet to see the face of the man he was working with.

"However, one must question the nature of such patronage," the dhampire raised an inquisitive eyebrow, losing his charming smile.

"My reasons are my own," the elderly man replied sternly. "You are to give the eye to those fools of the Order so they may in turn, infuse the eye into the possessor of the gates, so we may obtain a ready pathway to _him_."

"The undemon, also known as your precious God," the dhampire replied in bitter tones.

"Do not mock me dredge. I grow weary of it."

"Don't insult my prideold man, you are an antique striving to maintain power in a dying struggle. Though the vampires may belong to the demon family tree, I can assure you I am dhampire, and as such, I am not beholden to either the humans or the demons."

"Which is why I question your motives," the old man interrupted. "Do not give me reason to doubt you, Mr. Jones."

"Call me Ray if you will," the dhampire smirked. "And like you, my esteemed associate, I only seek to create a little chaos."

"Blasphemy!" the other roared. "I seek to revive the one true master of us all! To save what is left of this corrupt and diseased planet. I strain what good I can from the world and leave the rest to rot and corrode in the wake of hell! I would not expect one such as you to understand the logic of our great mother."

"Believe me, priest," the dhampire replied upeturbed, "I understand what it is you seek all too well." Though salvation is such an unworthy quest these days, Ray Jones thought. "I believe it was a bargain that once the pathway is operational, I may do what I wish with the host body."

"Dhampire I care not what you do with that one, she is unstable in her human reincarnation as she was before they cast her aside. However, should you exterminate her existence before the time has come, it is within my power to destroy your fledgling human family," the old man said in a cold voice.

"Spare me," the dhampire replied steely. "Do with them as you will. I have better things in mind for your cast offs." Turning the dhampire left the darkened office, stone in hand. The arrogant prick, Ray growled. His human family…ha…with this new weapon the angels were so hell bent on creating by assisting those demon worshipping fools The Order, his family was the farthest thing from his mind. What he could do with the type of power this little weapon would possess...it made him chuckle just thinking about it. That fool, if only he knew the plans he had in store for that pretty wench and their precious god.


	32. The Clients

"So that's what he said huh?" Dante didn't look at Lucia. He was standing there, not doing a thing. She hadn't expected this. She'd practically knocked down his clients in order to tell him. Lucia nodded, swallowing. Trish was in the other room, stalling for time. He headed towards the door. Lucia took a step back. "Well that was informative," he commented mildly. Lucia stared at him disbelieving.

"Excuse me?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"So Vergil's little playmate has gone missing. If he says he's going to find her he will. Unfortuanatly, we're related like that," Dante pushed his way past Lucia and headed into the joining room. The clients, newly weds, a man and woman, were here to report a missing person, possibly a demonic kidnapping. He hadn't had a case like this in a while, and usually he bother with a case like this, but business was getting slow. If there was a down side to methodically killing every demon he had come across in the last twenty something years, it would be the slowing of business. Still, it was unusual for things to be this dead. It was almost as if the demonic world had gone underground for the time being, it's occupants trying to avoid the radar. Strange things were happening. Maybe Vergil had been right about the coming of theScion of Balance…it would be a first for Vergil.

"Here," the woman was handing a picture to Trish, "this is the only recent picture I have. It's about three years old, but she really hasn't changed much." The woman was attractive, brunette, brown eyes. Her husband, he was the weird one, not quite human, that one. Dante eyed him as he entered the room. For all his appearence, he looked the twenty something punk, leaning against the wall not far from his wife. He wasn't demonic. Dante doubted this was really a kidnapping case. Did the woman even know what it was she was married to?

"Dante,"Trish broke into his thoughts, "you better take a look at this." Lucia watched them from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

The picture was of a black haired girl, she was wearing a red baseball cap drawn low on the brow and an army reserve jacket with jeans. The woman wasn't smiling in the picture, if fact, she looked like she was about to clock who ever had shot the photo. The cigarette hanging from her lips only added to small menace she posed. The picture was apparently taken in winter, the foreground covered in drifts and individual snow flakes could be seen clinging to her dark hair. What in the hell were the odds? He knew that hair, and he'd know that ass anywhere, it was almost as cute as Trish's. Almost. He glanced at the couple, tossing the picture down on the coffee table.

"You know Lor?" Trish asked them skeptically. The woman looked at her startled.

"She's missing," the woman replied with a questioning look. "Are you friends of Lauren's?"

"When was the last time you spoke with her?" Trish demanded, ignoring the question.

"Several weeks ago. What does that have to do with anything?" the woman demanded. She was digging her nails into the couch she was sitting on. "How do you know Lor?"

"Calm down, Tiffany," her husband shushed her. He looked to Dante, "According to my wife here, Lor was working with a half-demon. She tends to jump to conclusions from time to time. I told her we should have checked her home first."

"Don't act like I'm not here," Tiffany snapped. "Lor's not home, she hasn't been at work and she sure as hell isn't bumming in the city for a few days. I would know remember?" Trish rubbed her temples annoyed. She hated women who came in here like they knew the world like the back of their hand. It was a condescending attitude she personally liked to break, one of the manyperks to working at Devil Never Cry. Dante regarded the man. He wasn't human, he wasn't demon…odd combinations were pretty rare in themselves…

"Then she's smarter than you are," Dante replied. He sat at his desk, throwing both feet up. "I don't suppose you know anything useful?"

"If she was abducted then she was mostly likely taken to Silent Hill," the brunette sighed. Dante and Trish both regarded the pair, considering. Silent Hill was a dangerous place for _them_, let alone humans. The Order ran that town, and very few dared to mess with The Order. Fortunately for the newly weds, Dante and Trish were a couple of those select few.

"How would she wind up in Silent Hill?" Trish growled.

"Because the Order abducted her," the brunette replied flatly. In an instant Trish was on her feet, a shot gun held level with the woman's head. Dante saw the domino effect a mile away. Already the man was reaching for his hidden ace in the hole. Damn angelic weaponry to hell in back, he had just finished paying off the damn loan they had to take out the last time the place got torn up. Two swords arched and met, grinding against each other. Blinking Trish didn't lower the shot gun, though the woman had stood.

"A cast off angel like you shouldn't have any trouble finding a single human," Dante commented sizing up the man's weapon. It was flaming, the angelic scrolling alive within the metal as it was underneath the man's skin. He was the oldest angel Dante had ever encountered.

"So you really are a son of Sparda," the angel grunted. "I thought as much." Reluctantly, the two separated, the angel stood before the demon, sword loosly held in his hand. Ruefully the man nodded, "Perhaps you may not have noticed, but Lauren's one of those unique humans. Her aura makes it almost impossible for one such as I to find in a town like Silent Hill. Not to mention it's especially hard to find that girl when she doesn't want to be found."

"Believe me, we noticed," Trish commented dryly.

"Why ask me for help angel?" Dante asked him, staring him strait in the eye.

"Ever get the feeling something bad was going to happen?" Josh asked, returning the steady gaze, before flashing a quick, weary smile. "Those of us who have fallen get a feeling for it every once in a while. Something big is going on. My wife wants what remains of her family to be near in the time ahead." From what Dante understood, an angel had to cross god's will, literally, in order to be exiled to earth, that was something to chew on.

"Well then," Trish shouldered the shotgun, "consider Devil Never Cry on the job." Dante eyed her. She raised an eyebrow back. "I think we're going to need a lot more shot gun shells." That woman…

"If you were going," Dante relied flatly.

"Excuse me?" she asked mildly.

"Stay here, watch the shop." That last thing he needed was for that woman to wonder around in Silent Hill. Trish had a rather nasty way of treating humans who worshipped demons, especially Order members, and he needed information. This wasn't just an ordinary kidnapping, not if Vergil was involved. And dammit he had just paid of the freaking loan, if they came back to the place in shambles…again…he was pretty sure he'd end up doing something to devastate the lives what normal humanity still lived in Silent Hill. However little of it there was.

"What?" Trish demanded. Dante fought the urge to smirk as he headed into the back room. Trish was struggling not to have a conniption in front of the clients. Ah his Trish...no doubt he'd be regretting this decision three months later...maybe even longer.

She watched him casually walk away and for the briefest of moments she seriously considered aiming for the back of his head with the shotgun. Who the hell did he think he was? Trish noticed Lucia smirking at her.

"If you don't drop the grin you'll be eating the wood you're leaning on," Trish growled. Of course that didn't fazed Lucia. Nothing fazed her, the bitch.

"You stay here and be a good girl," Lucia smirked. "I'll be sure to kill a few for you." To that Trish had very nearly blown a neat hole through her.

"Who said you were going?" Dante asked. Turning Lucia stared at him in disbelief.

"What?" she asked. "You cann't tell me what to do."

"I just did," Dante replied breezing past her. He looked to the angel. "You however, are coming with." Grimly the man sighed.

"As you wish," he replied. "The name is Josh by the way."

"I'm sure it is," Dante muttered heading out the front door.


	33. Silent Hell

I was dreaming again, or maybe I was awake. I can't tell which is which anymore. How long have I been here? How long have I been awake? How long have I dreamed of this place, only to wake up alone, in bed, with the comfort of the alarm clock glowing in the dark night. How many times have I cursed this hell hole like the nightmare it is? Believe me, you let them brainwash you in a mental facility and you come out loving Disneyland squirrels and thinking hot pink spandexis acceptable to wear in public. I keep forgetting things in this place, important things, and I'm not so sure I like that. I think it's the sedative drugs they keep dosing me with. Between the drugs-which afford me my own visual personal hell-the slow and steady torture Chop so expertly inflicts, and the bliss of sleep, I'm damn near made up for the fourteen years I missed.

I'm hanging, suspended by iron chains that cut into the soft flesh of my wrists. My feet just barely brushed the ground. I'm stripped bare from the waist up. There a nice wad of bandage running up and down my arms. Doctor Chop had been steadily peeling and/or carving away pounds of my flesh. The sadistic fuck. Hell if I knew why he was doing it…but so far he had peeled away portions of my skin from both legs, my torso, and my arms, he was currently working on my back. It wasn't really that horrible, hanging exposed like I was, after all I would soon be unconscious from it. All that rushing blood was going somewhere. The pain was bearable, though just barely. The good doctor was currently using a black sharpie to plot out the rest of the skin grafts he would be taking out of my hide in the near future. It was actually kinda pretty looking, the markings Chop was making with the sharpie, if it didn't hurt so damn much. The designs he made looked like calligraphy only seriously messed up. Where the edge should curve gracefully the designs edged and cut back on it self, or where it was graceful it stopped for a heartbeat, dotted, then continued in the same graceful edge.

They nearly broke my arm trying to hold when I fought back the last time, hence the reason for perverse use of chains now. The smell of the sharpie was infuriating, the way it was mingling with the smell of my own blood and sweat. It was making me sick. Whatever they had given my via an uber huge needle in the neck was kicking in now. It was doing wonders for my pounding headache among other things.

Chop is an interesting man. I first met him whenI wasfive years old and I will never forget him. I'm fairly sure the good doctor had belonged to the later World War Two concentration camp school of medicine. Doktor Viktor Van Chop was the perfect product of the Nazi era. He treated me like an object, but I didn't really mind. You see, the good doctor was too old to care that I was half nude and totally defenseless. I'll take my torture like a good little girl if you exempt the sleazy sexual pervasion while I'm out of it. I'd had my fare share of that with Cage. Thus I had abargain with the Doctor. When I was in his care, Iwas his little mannequin to do with as he pleased, and when I was out of it, he saw his precious 'experiment' safely back to her cell to heal properly. Apparently I was going to do big things for the Order after they broken me in little their little pet doggy. According to them I was going to transcend death and bring God to them. They claimed I was the key to God's existence and the door keeper to hell or something like that. Ah, the insane rantings of a homicidal cult. That brought back memories.

They were doing things just like they had in the old days with Alyssa. Why won't they let that poor girl rest? Last I heard from Heather, all this crap was over with, that several years ago she had killed the latest reincarnation of Alyssa. Heather had done a little detective work of her own in order to find me and Tiffany. That was the third time a goddess of hell had been killed by a human.Christ, Alyssa wasn't even a goddess, she was aglorified demon. You got to hand it to the Order, when they did stubborn they did it right. Too bad everything else was screwed up 99.9999 percent of the time.

"We'll begin the procedure in two hours," the good doktor, excuse me _doctor_, informs me. He's put the cap back on the sharpie, at least I think he has. Well he's done that or the medication has kicked it up a notch. Everything's starting to smell like the bottom of a sewer.

"What? I don't even get a night of rest?" I ask him. Even to my own ears my voice sounds slurred and out of it. I just noticed the walls are bleeding. The morphine's definitely kicked in, bleeding walls, not good. Next thing you know Michael Jackson will be doing the thriller dance routine. Silent Hill really is hell.

"You can rest in the morning." Chop sounds reasonable, even if he is so far away. He spins me around in a couple of circles, admiring his handiwork, before looking into my eyes with a small flashlight. I wonder what he'd do if I puked on his cute little doctor's jacket? "Soon, my dear, it will be complete. You will be complete. Your preparations for the ritual will be complete." The place is looking like a real dump now, blood and rust and dirt is every were. Chop looks like a vision from hell. I want to stick needles in his overly magnified eyeballs.

"Whatever. Do I get my shirt back?" I mumble to him. Chop listens closely. Another good thing about Chop, he's one of the few doctors who actually listen to their patients. Everything from Chop's patients is listened to carefully by him; from the screams of pain to the pleading for help and death or mercy, he listens to it all.

"Of course my dear, but now, you must rest." Chop is so far away.

"Will you let me die?" I asked him. I begged him really. I can see his face, it's at the end of a narrowing tunnel. His grey eyes show no mercy.

"My dear, when I am done with you, it will be you who wields death, and not the other way around. The only way you will ever die, my dear, is if _you_ will it." Chop is a sadistic asshole. That was the last thought that ran through my head before the medication dragged me down into a black hole.


	34. The Set Up

next chapter! Enjoy!

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**If if's and and's where pots and pans...**

Vergil looked to the sky, it had been a clear night a few moments ago, filled with the stars, but now miles away an embankment of dark clouds lay ahead. They were thick dark masses, with no sign of rain or lightening, no scent of water, no dip in the temperature. Demonic clouds then, right at the heart of were he needed to be. What had that stupid human gotten herself into? Vergil shifted gears, pushing the bike to its limits. Damn machines, they never could go fast enough.

One more time Vergil shifted through the facts he knew. She had been taken, or possibly willingly gone, to Silent Hill, however doubtful. He knew the demon worshipping cult there, now possessed the eye, the second of the three artifacts necessary to open the path way to god via the key. If the Order had abducted Lauren then there was no doubt in his mind those fools would attempt to imbue her with the eye. Of all the three artifacts, the eye was perhaps the most lethal, as it had to hibernate within a 'pure' host body in order to be fully utilized. If the wrong host body was imbued with the eye, the effects were often devastating. He had to wonder how brainless idiots had managed to get their hands on a rare and precious gem that had been missing for the greater part of two millenniums…

The real question: how did the Order know Lauren was the key? Assuming the Queen of Hell didn't know it was Lauren, then who under the suns and moons aside from himself and Dante knew Lauren for what she was? The eye could be brushed off as a stroke of ignorant luck, but not Lauren's true nature. Perhaps a third party was involved in this affair, as he had heard frequent rumors of. Hell, Vergil wouldn't put it past the relic angels to put up their last bid for power, however pathetically weak it might be. Should there be a third party however…they would discover how painful it could be to thwart _his_ plans. First though…._the girl_.

He had to wonder why he was doing this. Granted he needed the eye and needed it imbued in Lauren, however, if she wasn't the one he needed, as he occasionally hoped was the case, his debt to that damningly annoying woman would go unpaid. Should she not be the key and Lauren did somehow survive the Order fools and he _did_ care to repay his debt to her…then after that, he had a very detailed plan of what he might do to her for being such damning nuisance. That wench…how the hell had the Order managed to get their greasy hands on her? More importantly, why would they bother to keep her? Even dull witted fools like the Order had to realize she was more trouble than she was worth by now…then again…they were dull for a reason, as humans were apt to be.

On the strong metal band around his wrist, the amerhurst flared to life. It was reacting again, as it had the weeks Lauren had been gone. Flaring to life sporadically before fading to dull stone and metal again, he had a notion that didn't bode well for Lauren. Or his plans, if she was the one he needed, those luck had often been a fickle mistress. The little amulet Vergil had given Lauren came with a variety of uses. One of them was a specific ability allowing one to find the lost, as Lauren herself had discovered, much to his cynic belief. The closer Vergil got to the other half of the divided Amerhurst the more it reacted, reawakening…What was it that made the girl so damn important? Was she really the key or just another likely candidate? Either way it seemed he'd find out soon.

"Hey, you look pretty flashy on that bike Verg." A biker out of nowhere, riding side by side with him, easily keeping pace. He hadn't even noticed. Unfortunately the driver was Dante. Mentally Vergil swore. What the hell was _he_ doing here?

"Never could keep to yourself," Vergil commented dryly.

"I was just wondering if you knew that your little human was an earlier victim of the Order," Dante asked him over the increasing wind, a smirk on his face. The Order, it rang clear over the noise. The Order…that stupid, stupid human _woman_… And she had said nothing when they had gone to the WishHouse. She didn't trust quiet so easily as he had expected of her. Not that he was one to share his past, but this was foolish fact to hide in demonic realms. He'd be lucky now, if the queen didn't recognized Lauren the minute she laid eyes on her. Damn that _human_ _woman_ to a cold hell and back.

"Don't interfere Dante," Vergil warned.

"Or you'll what? This is a little bit bigger than your pathetic plans, Verg, if she really is the key to the scion. You do realize that right?" Dante asked.

"As you wish, however I might add that once you're in this, it won't end until it's over. Do you realize that?" Vergil asked mildly.

"Oh God, I think the melodrama just ripped my heart out," Dante sneered, disgusted. "Give me a break." He gunned his engine and pulled ahead. Vergil sighed. Knowing Dante, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Vergil had thought he'd cared more about Trish than that, but maybe he really didn't have that much to lose... Vergil gunned his engine as well, keeping easy pace with Dante as they rode side by side into the growing darkness.

**Lauren Part 1**

The extensive operations were over now, thank hell for small favors. Now they were upping the intensive brainwashing, not that they were gaining much by it. I'm so charming when I choose to be. Vergil has no idea how stubborn I could be, maybe I should show him sometime.

That aside, there isn't a waking moment I'm not in pain. There isn't a sleeping moment that I don't dream about death in several forms. My skin is foul enough I can literally smell the infections living in it. How the fuck did the Order find me? I ran away from this place with intention of never returning. Yet here I am. God has a sick sense of humor. Christ…I think my 'partner' has bailed on me. Not that I expected Vergil to come and get me in the first place. No doubt by now, Tiffany's moved out of town. I wonder how many of these order fucks she burned to a crispy shell before they left her alone. Just imagining it makes me smirk. These idiots, they're freaking killing me and greatest thing of all? They don't even realize it. The irony of it all still makes me laughed even when they're beating the shit out of me. They're killing me and they still haven't found whatever it is they're looking for. Ha, fuckers…serves 'em right. However, I think life just got a bit more complicated for me here in the center of hell.

This morning the black priestess came in and announced to chop-block and I that it was time for the 'Next Stage'. Then she introduced a man. He had such pale skin dark hair that he reminded me of Will in a way. She said that he was the benefactor of this whole operation, so now I know who I can pin my misery on, and that the results were surprising thus far. She promised to wait for the rest of the results before commencing the Ritual. Whatever the hell that means, though I know it's going to hurt like a bitch. Why does that man look so much like my neighbor boy, Will? God, where the hell are you Vergil?

**BloodRayne**

Ray Jones, an odd alias to choose, Rayne thought. How was it he was here at Silent Hill, and not his little mansion a half an hour away? What had drawn him out to the hospital so close to dawn? No dhampire risked that unless the payment was high. No way a roller like Ray was low on the red. He practically had a private blood bank in his mansion's cellar. Rayne watched the man pull into the garage and after a moment more he was walking into the building, fully guarded with his own suits. Hmm…way too much protection. Had he gotten wind of her?

"Sevren, you there?" Rayne whispered into her ear piece.

"Shoot."

"Find out who Ray boy's been dealing with in the last four years, will you?"

"Well, let's see, not much in the databanks. A dhampire that shows discretion, quiet amazing if you ask me. Ah here it is, he's been working closely with an unnamed organization for several years now, it seems," Sevren's British accent sounded skeptical. "Apparently some kind of orphanage that's fallen on hard times."

"A gentleman among wolves," Rayne commented. "You got anything else?"

"Well there is one other thing. He's been dealing with extremely large amounts of funds for a local hospital for the last couple of years as well. Quite a coincidence."

"Yeah right," Rayne surveyed the tall building. There had to be a quiet way in. "I'm going meat hunting."

"Do try _not_ to soil your outfit this evening," Sevren replied sardonically.

**Angel on High**

Josh flew high over the demons. This human world continued to change and often Josh found himself the relic it was foretold he would become. The changes in technology alone were astounding. Jotheil was the fourth angel thrown out of heaven for the simple crime of performing his calling, much to the rue of the hypocritical 'Grand Master'.

And though he was no soothsayer among his race, Josh could see the machinations of the Grand Master through his crafty handiwork. Lor's disappearance was no random abduction made by a foolish cult, despite what his wife feared. That was just the mask, a simple farce, underneath lay the fact that Lauren was unique. Perhaps in way that made the unfallen angels quake with fear, much to his satisfaction. If she was the one Dante Sparda had believed she was, then they shook with fear for a good reason. Her coming had been prophesized by his own downfall, even now he remembered the Grand Master's words as his destiny was painfully stripped from his flesh.

'_A child alone unrecognized_

_on wings of ebony death and suffering_

_flying into the face of all recognized_

_reborn the one who will not die.'_

He'd known Lauren was unique from the first time they'd met, her and his (future) wife. They were Marked, something unseen in humans for time out of mind. At first his interest was merely to thwart the Grand Master's plots, however…Tiffany was one of those humans who knew him for what he was the moment she'd laid eyes on him. It wasn't long afterwards that he'd moved into her household and life.

Shaking his head, Josh concentrated on the task at hand. If what Tiffany said was to be believed, there would be other unique humans at Silent Hill. People who he must protect at all costs. No doubt the Grand Master had plans for all of Silent Hill's little protégés, however his was inclined to believe that most of them, like Lor and Tiffany, were reluctant to jump the way the Order wished. _If reluctant is the word to use_, he thought ruefully. No, Lauren would have to wait in the care of the demons, he would see to the others first. The son of Sparda had given his word she would be taken care of after Josh explained what he knew. It still astounded him, that he, an angel would rely so completely upon the word of a demon. If anything it made his grim smirk grow wider. _How do you like me now, Grand Master?_

**Lauren Part 2**

I don't remember his name, my memory is lapsing again from the drugs they're giving me. I'm sure they told me his name, but I forgot. I wish I still remembered it. That way I could curse him like the pig he is. I spit in his face after he got too close for comfort. And after that…well…I lost consciousness…he hits pretty hard for pansy. I guess he's the Order's 'final solution' to coerce my cooperation for this ritual. What the hell is it for? I wonder if I even want to know… Damn if I'm 'cooperating' for anything! Hell's gonna freeze over first! I swear it on the souls of my dead parents. Let's just see them try.


	35. Infiltration

Rayne inched down the hallway quietly. There was no one about, but security was high. It was too damning bright in this place. The layout was strange, maze like. "And to top it off, Ray's bodyguards are all full-fledged vampires," Rayne grumbled to herself. Humans turned vamp, pathetic. A dhampire that created beings stronger than himself for protection, what exactly was he thinking? They might be on loan from an actual master, that was always a possibility to keep in mind. Hmmm…what was going on in the vampire community as of late? They had all stopped talking to Rayne after she had sent the impaled heads of some would be infiltrators back to their masters in tiny crème colored boxes. And here Rayne was just inviting them over for a little drinky drinky. Ah well…

Some one was coming. Rayne flattened herself to the wall, Dragon pistol at hand. One step, two, they were getting closer…just a little bit more…now. Rayne lunged around the wall, taking aim and bringing up her other blade.

"Whoa take it easy babe." She was aiming at the center of his forehead and the blade was arched and ready to split him in two, from crotch to brain. His own gun was a mere millimeter from her left eye and his sword tip was just barely pressed up against her abdomen. He had a smile on his face when any other normal man would be pissing his pants. Why? Rayne felt a presence behind her.

"Empress." Now _that_ voice was familiar. Rayne lowered the gun and blade as she regarded the pair.

"There's two of you?" She cocked an eyebrow and smiled slyly. "Well isn't that charming."

"What are you doing here?" Vergil asked coldly, his hand close to the pummel of yamoto.

"No introduction first? Tsk, not good, Vergil. Second rule of the underworld, no info lost none gained," Rayne leaned back against a wall, forcing her body into a relaxed stance. All the better to react with. If they chose to attack it would be a losing battle. "You of all people should know the rules."

"Dante," the twin introduced himself, looking her up and down. There was a glint in his eye Rayne liked. She smiled wickedly. Vergil kept his face impassive, but he found himself wondering if things would've turned out the same if Trish had been there. Disgust curled his mouth, Dante always had been a ladies' man.

"Empress BloodRayne," the dhampire smirked. "I'm here looking for the vampire lord Raymund, also know to a few as Ray. And you?" Rayne looked expectantly to Vergil.

"The key to the scion, know where she is?" Dante asked casually. Vergil suppressed a strong urge to physically harm his brother. The less this woman knew in the long run, the better…there was no telling the amount of damage she could do with a lose tongue. Or at least the amount of damage caused by a lose tongue speaking to the right ear. Vergil recalled Thalis with distaste, high aristocrat demons were a dime a dozen and annoying as hell to be around, the less he had to deal with them the better.

"So, it's a she huh?" Rayne cocked an eyebrow, smirking. "That would explain why you wanted to know where the eye was at. Hmmm, tell me, is she pretty?" Rayne leaned close to Vergil her emerald eyes dancing like livewires.

"She's _missing_," Vergil replied shortly, raising an eyebrow. Not too picky was she?

"Black hair, gold eyes, loud mouth, nice ass, can't miss her," Dante shrugged. "Goes by the name Lor, keep an eye out for her will you?"

"What do I get in return?" Rayne purred. Lor…Lor…ah, Lauren Star, she remembered now. That human she'd spared one night not so long ago. What where the odds? Rayne let a wicked smile dance over her lips. Interesting…both the Order and the Fey were after her. That would explain the human's lack of emotion when dealing with herself, the poor thing was probably use to both organizations sending assassination attempts by now.

"We look for Ray, and I don't kill you for leaking out information like this to the demonic realm in the future," Vergil replied in a detached voice. His hand never left the hilt of yamoto. "Fair trade Empress?" The dhampire lost her smile at that, she cocked her head sideways, her green eyes studying the half demon.

"Fair, but anything else will cost you, and I name the price," Rayne was smiling again. Nothing kept this red head down for long. She was almost as annoying as that bitch Lucia. Vergil ground his teeth together to keep himself from strangling her. He had a feeling tonight was going to be a long night.

"As you wish," he agreed flatly.

"So what now? The whole split up and search routine?" Dante glanced to his brother. Vergil had been in hell too long. Killing a woman that fine was blasphemy…or at least it should have been.

"I work alone," Rayne smiled, showing her vampire teeth. "Demon boys are a bit loud and rowdy when a girl such as myself needs to feed. I've been searching this floor, and so far there's been nothing."

"Lauren's here," Vergil replied simply. "Somewhere. Most likely on the upper floors." Order rituals demanded a large open space for where they could protect themselves. No doubt the ceiling of this building would be an apt place as any to start the search.

"I guess that means I get the basement all to myself. Goodie, goodie," Dante sighed. What a night…


	36. Gravity

**Lauren**

You know it's going to be a bad day when you wake up and the first thing you notice is a pounding headache and a metallic copper taste in your mouth. I opened my eyes to an eerie red light. This game of musical chairs was getting old. Where was I this time? God my head…_another_ headache…Christ…let's see, the last thing I remembered…the vampire man…what an asshole…I hoped it still hurt where I kicked him. Then again my own jaw was still hurting from where he'd hit me back. At least my memory wasn't lapsing anymore.

I tried to move my hands and feet. They didn't budge. Blinking in the dim light I could see why, I was strung upside down. Both feet were tied together and my arms where spread eagle. An upside down cross? How original. Was this part of the ritual the Order had been babbling about? The door opened, letting in a flood of fluorescent lighting. My eyes…yeah that helped out the pounding headache I was fostering. Groaning, I blinked trying to see who it was standing in the door. All I could make out was a silhouette, but that was all I needed.

"Hey Chop," my voice sounded rusty from neglect, "I don't suppose you have a cigarette on you?"

"It's pleasant to see you awake for a change, child," he greeted me. He stepped into the room. Behind him was a familiar looking man, Vampire Lord Raymund, or so he said, if I remembered correctly this time. Chop approached me. Carefully he looked into my eyes with a flashlight. "I see you haven't been eating." I glanced over to the uneaten food resting on a workbench a foot away. How the hell was I suppose to eat with the food all the hell over here? I snorted.

"Shall we get this examination underway doctor?" Raymund asked.

"Why the hell is he here?" I growled, glaring at Raymund. Chop carefully rolled my shirt down, pulling me forward from the red glowing wall so he could check how my back as healing. I could feel his boney old fingers poking me like a stiff twig. I winced as he began exploring the sore part of my back.

"I am here to protect my investment, my dear," Raymund gave me a toothy smile. His vampire incisors dug into his bottom lip a little. I gave him a dirty look.

"Then try investing in better room service," I retorted annoyed. "FYI: it sucks."

"Ah well, if I may say, I think I rather enjoy our current arrangements," Ray leaned against the wall, watching Chop. His eyes flashed red in the dark. Vampires…they only think about one thing.

"Excuse me?" I asked irritated. "Maybe you should be strung upside down. See how much you like it." Then again he probably _would_ with my luck.

"One hour 7B and we begin the ritual," Chop murmured. "Everlasting life will be ours." I raised an eyebrow.

"So what the hell do you need me for? All you had to do was get Raymund to blow you." Calmly Raymund strode across the room and backhanded me, making my neck painfully twist to the side. I felt blood oozing into my mouth from a cut on the inside of my cheek.

"You're going to be the catalyst that suspends death, my dear," Ray smirked. Arrogant bastard. "After that, perhaps you and I can learn more about each other."

"Don't hold your breath," I replied. "I don't date violent bastards."

"We shall see about that," Ray replied. He came closer and bent down to look me in the eye. "You are more precious to me than you can imagine, my dear." He gently wiped away the blood that was streaming out of my mouth with a rag. He lapped up any that got on his hands when he was done. Attractive.

"Then let me go, if I love you, I will return," I replied sarcastically.

"She's nearly healed," Chop said as he pulled off his plastic gloves. "She should be ready for the ritual." Right nearly healed, sure I was. I'm sure that's why my back was a blistering hole of pain.

"Good," Ray stood and turned to Chop. "The rewards are yours to reap, inform me the minute you have succeeded. I must leave you now, my dear, there are some more pressing matters to be dealt with." Ray bowed to me. I give him a dirty look. "I look forward to our engagement."

"Go to hell," I snapped. Ray gave no sign that he had heard me.

"Doktor," he nodded his head at Chop. Then he left, the door closing firmly behind him, shutting out the bright fluorescent light.

"Well now 7B," Chop continued to examine my arms. "What is really preying on your delicate mind?"

"What is this crap?" I asked, trying to move straining against the red threads. I succeeded in cutting my wrists up.

"Ah, ah" Chop gently slapped my arm. He continued his examination, moving on to the arm he just hit though somehow completely failing to notice the blood falling from my now cut wrist. I better not have to foot a bill for this kind of crappy treatment. "You're astute mind impresses me, my dear," Chop continued. "This tread possesses quite miraculous qualities. It is pliant as spider silk in the wind yet can cut through iron. It holds it's shape for hours on end."

"That's nice," I grumbled, "but what is it?"

"It is the thread of hell, often used by the marionette demon class. Is there anything else that is bothering you my dear?"

"And you would care because?"

"Should we fail, you will most likely be dead," he informed me flatly.

"Gee, thanks for the heads up." Chop turned off his flashlight, pocketing it. He headed for the door.

"Be well 7B. It has been a pleasure operating on you." Yeah I'm sure it was you fucking jerk. Still, I say nothing, he's not worth the effort to speak. Silently the door closed behind Chop, leaving me in the red lit room.

I glanced over at the glowing thread. Plaint yet firm eh? Wriggling I pulled against the string that bound my wrists. God it felt like fish line being tightened against my skin. Fish line with melted glass on it. Ignoring the pain, I continued to slowly pull outwards. Eventually the hole was big enough for me to pull my hands through. I rubbed my poor wrists in the darkness. They were bleeding, but amazingly it wasn't too bad. Nice. Now for the hard part. Reaching, I pulled myself up, straining against gravity and my out of shape muscles. Once I was close enough to touch my own toes, I took a breather. God my wrists and my back and my head, these kind of vacations weren't healthy. Slowly I unzipped my combat boots. Gravity took over after that.

Wheezing I landed on my back. Oh…man… The pain made me light headed enough to wonder how that had ever seemed like a good idea. God…my fucking back, what the hell had they done to my fuck back? Rolling onto my stomach I eased myself to my feet. Smirking, I sent a silent thank you to Chop. He had been so helpful with providing me with information I'd needed. I went over to the threads to retrieve my boots. This demonic shitwas through withmessing up my life. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.

**Raymund**

There were intruders, he would have known that even if he hadn't sensed the empress. He'd thought she'd catch up with him eventually, but he hadn't thought her timing would be so inconvenient. She was looking for him, he knew, that red headed bitch was the single reason most vampires cowered in the shadows now, like common criminals. Well, when he was god…a few changes would have to be made…

Smirking, Raymund reached for his whip. Such as weapon befitting of a future god, the master of all. He would kill the bitch…both of them, that dhampire who claimed to be Empress and the wench key. It wouldn't be long till the angels fell under his hand and then there would be nothing standing in his way. The world would be his on a silver platter. It was enough to make him laugh.


	37. El sotano

Quick little minute...

hey everybody, thanks for the reviews! They're always appreciated!Something doesn't seem to ring true to you,let me know, i'll tweek the story for you! Special thanks to PK, as always an awsome source of inspiration. Enough talking! Read! Enjoy!

One other thing...happy dance...I think we've just hit the half way point in the story...so...well... yay!

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Well the basement needs to be remodeled, Dante thought. The place was a dump and the cadavers in the morgue hadn't been cleaned out in a while. The smell alone could peel paint. Had to take the top floor the selfish bastard, Dante pushed past a broken pipe that was hanging broken from the ceiling, couldn't possible take the basement. Not Verg, of course not Vergil, he had to lose a human of all things, to a cult of raving lunatics. There were rats too… Dante stepped on one crushing it's small body beneath his boot. Damn flea bags, they were almost as bad as cats. At the end of the hallway, two guards stood. Jackpot.

"Hey boys, this where the party's at?" Dante walked up casually. They both stood with their arms crossed, faces neutral. Standard bouncer cliché, give or take the clown face paint and wiry frames.

"Do you have an invitation sir?" The man to the left asked him after a moment's hesitation. He had mime face paint. The quality of hench men was going down these days. Where had all the class gone?

"Sure thing." He whipped out Rebellion and held it a millimeter from the man's exposed throat, the metal streaking silver liquid before coming to a halt. Dante smirked. "How's this?" Then they were at it. Dante had to give them credit, they were faster than they looked. They actually took him by surprise for a moment when the second man-his face was painted in the standard bozo clown style-was suddenly behind him. He would almost go as far to say they had almost stood a hell of a chance. _Almost_, until he figured out their overly simplistic fighting pattern. _Idiots_. Seriously, where was the class these days?

Dante did a single helm breaker on the man behind him, throwing him down before throwing him back up in the air again. By then the other was reacting. He lunged, a small switch blade in hand. The sheer stupidity of it made Dante hold still. Smirking he let the guy stick him with it. They both looked at the small blade embedded in his chest before looking at each other, eye to eye. Dante raised an eyebrow.

"Here, let me show you how it's done." Dante lashed out with Rebellion. He repeated the same jabbing motion over and over, then finishing it off with a final thrust that sent the bozo hurtling into the wall. By then the other clown was getting up, Dante didn't even give him a chance. Turning, Dante threw him in the air again and held him aloft with Ivory and Ebony until there was nothing worth holding up anymore. Dante surveyed the pulpy gore left over. They hadn't been human, they'd been full blooded Vampires. The vampires were in on this too? He should have known, seeing the Empress here. Dante pulled the little knife out of his chest and flipped in into the concrete floor. He kicked the doors open that the clowns had been 'guarding'.

It was a room at the base of spiraling tower the 'hospital' boasted of, it looked like a pit of hell. In the center of the floor an operation table stood, bloodied, it smelled like human blood for the most part, and well used. Dante surveyed the place. Actual human flesh-presumably belonging to the same person who had done the bleeding-was nailed to a portion of the wall, decorating it with some kind of symbol.

He didn't like the look of that. There was writing on the wall, accompanied by verse after verse of writing, also composed of human skin. It was an archaic demonic tongue from the looks of it…very old, Dante didn't even recognize several of the characters, which was unusual to say the least. There were very few demonic tongues Dante _didn't_ know of. It was hard to believe the delicate and intricate runes came from a human body.

Dante moved closer to the operating table, taking everything in. He hoped like hell Lor hadn't come to this room, although seeing all this justified her friend's fears, not that any fear of The Order was unjust. The smell in this room made his nose twitch. The cabinet in the corner smelled worse than the cadavers. No doubt there was enough subduing medication in there to knock out even a full blooded demon.

Operatation scalpels of varying sizes were laid out on a tray next to the operation bed. Every single one of them were well used and crusted over with dried blood. Absent mindedly, Dante picked one up, studying it in the faint light. It smelled like Vergil's little friend. That damn _idiot_…how could he have been so careless with something as fragile as a human? Dante took a step backward, surveying the scene before him anew, managing to step on something soft in the process. _Damning rats_… Ebony was pointing down at the ground and fired off, before he even bother to look down at what it was he was shooting at. Looking down he saw it was a messenger bag, it smelled like Vergil's little fair skinned friend as well. The spoils of war were lacking, Vergil had better find that human girl or so help him, he'd wish he'd never come back… Dante shouldered the bag, choosing to ignore the blood stained equipment and headed for the door.


	38. The 7 Sin Children of Silent Hill

**Vergil**

Vergil was aware of the scent of her spilt blood the moment he stepped on the floor. So far the rest of the floors had been disturbing yet yielded no Lauren. Where the hell was she in this crazy place? He cast about himself. Pale brick walls, painted white, yet the scent hung on the air. It was familiar…Lauren's…but different. Warped somehow, the Order members had made sure to spread her scent-and blood it would seem-fully about the building. It made for difficult tracking, as they most likely knew. Unfortunately for those fools, Lauren maintained possession of the amerhurst, though there was that distinct possibility that would only facilitate things along for them. _Damn her_. Vergil started down the hall.

**Henry and Aileen**

"Henry!" Aileen's grey blue eyes went wide with relief. "I thought I'd lost you in here. It feels like a maze." She threw her arms around him, breathing a sigh of relief. It had to be pure luck that he hadn't run into any Order members, though she knew better than to rely on luck.

"Aileen," he squeezed her back. "Why did you follow me? You know how dangerous it is here."

"_Right_," Aileen said playfully sarcastic as she drew back. Her eyes however, were filled with concern. "I know for certain that you'll be alright if I'm here with you."

"Aileen," he replied sternly. "It was stupid of you to follow me here."

"It was stupid of you to leave me behind," she replied simply. His face softened as he studied her, that was Eileen for you. "Why are we here anyways?" she added.

"Something's happening."

"Is it the Order?" she asked, tucking a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. "What are they doing this time?"

"The usual: nothing good. That's why you shouldn't have come here," he added dryly.

"Oh push off," Aileen swatted him. "It's not like there's five other people they'd have to collect."

"I'm not so sure of that," Henry turned to look down the hall. "For some reason, I can't get Silent Hill out of my head. I've been thinking about this place for weeks."

"Of course you have," a voice agreed. Aileen jumped, clutching Henry's arm. Perhaps she'd discounted the Order too soon…

"Who's there?" Henry demanded. His whole body had gone tense at the intruder's voice.

"An ally," Josh replied easily, revealing himself now that he was sure they were the ones he sought. As angel, Josh tended to still follow the rules set down by higher ups, which included minimal interference. It was a habit he was still breaking himself of. He studied the two humans before him, lucky for them their auras were unmarked. However he could feel the stain of the summons on their auras, the need to answer the summons. That meant the other four Tiffany spoke of would feel the pull and come as well. Things were shaping up quite nicely for the Order, Josh thought grimly. He'd seen the preparations for a certain Ritual and didn't like the looks of it. The Order would never be able to perform that sort of Ritual, if he remembered correctly, without the aid of the Grand Master or any of his designated helpers. If the Grand Master was willing to go that far to resurrect _Him_, then something serious had happened. Grand Masters didn't randomly break their vows of detachment so lightly.

"What do you want?" Henry demanded. He bore the suspicious trait all seven sin children of Silent Hill did. For a moment the man reminded Josh of his wife.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked the brown haired man. "Interesting question," he mused. Things were bad, things were very bad. And his wife was pregnant. He couldn't afford his past to be catching up with him now. Josh pushed the thoughts away. "What do the sins of Envy and Sloth want?" That caught their attention.

"My name is not Sloth," the man spit out, clenching his fists. The woman beside him visibly paled.

"I know you've thought of nothing but this place for the last three weeks," Josh replied slowly. Tiffany had explained that almost all the Seven Sin Children the Order had produced possessed special abilities. _Almost_ all of them, save for Lor, who was the runt of the litter. Though that was proving fatal for her now.

His wife had gone into more detail than he had wanted to know when he'd asked about her life at the WishHouse orphanage, but now the information was handy. He knew, for instance, the man before him was Henry and the woman, Eileen. From his wife's descriptions he'd have known that even if he hadn't been listening to their conversations. Neither of them had particularly dangerous abilities, Henry could bend the space between two destinations creating worm holes that allowed him to travel wide distances in the matter of seconds. Eileen was a healer. _Perhaps not all providence is lost if these two are here_. Time had long since past when Josh had been a true angel, able to see and manipulate the twists and turns of fate, it had been his duty as the left hand messenger of god. Of all seven sin children who could be here to help Lor it was no coincidence that these two had arrived first. It was enough to make him wonder what the Grand Master was up to…

"Henry?" the woman asked uncertainly. Henry sighed. No doubt he'd end up regretting this in the next two minutes when Order members were surrounding the two of them. _Lucky for the two of us it's easier to run than to fight, especially with that handy trick they gave me, the bastards. _For the second time that night Henry wished he'd had to foresight to bring a weapon of some sort. _Not that it would've done me much good._

"What do you know?" He grunted.

"You may not believe me, but I need your help," Josh began.

**Rayne**

Rayne had found the fishy bastard. Granted she'd knocked down a wall to do it, but there was no need for a meat grinder that size in a mental ward. The arcane spiral steps were easily found. _He's making this too easy…_ The vampire guards had been numerous and repetitively annoying in their death threats and cat calls. They weren't now though. Purebloods always tasted like something akin to fine wine, aged and sour but deliciously melodious as it trickled down the back of one's throat.

Carefully Rayne silently made her way to the door. He was in there, she could hear him breathing, hear his hear beating, see his sick malevolent aura pulsing a fine red color. The little lordling had been gorging himself lately it seemed.

"Sevrin is insanity an inherited trait?" Rayne quietly spoke into the com link. The line had been breaking up frequently, for unknown reasons, and for the most part all she heard was white noise. However the link had chosen to work just that moment.

"I don't know. Though I do seem to recall your family member all have unpleasant addictions to maiming humans," he replied sarcastically. His voice was barely audible over the crackling in the com line. Dammit not again. With final crackle the com went dead. Technology was so useless. Rayne kicked the door down. He was waiting for her, his back to the door as he looked out the double window.

"So we finally meet face to face Empress," He turned and bowed slightly, a whip curled in his hands. "I must say I am honored, for once the rumors of great beauty were true."

"Wish I could say the same," Rayne replied coolly. "I heard you abandoned your devoted wife to pimp the Roman Empire slut sisters." She paused for a moment to smirk at him. "I think I bled them dry a few floors back." She slowly advanced into the room, no doubt Raymund had spent the greater part of his vampire life perfecting his skill with the whip. Mentally Rayne winced, she felt sorry for his wife for the briefest of moments. Vampire's weren't exactly known for their friendly bedroom habits.

"Is that all?" The French lord asked mildly, "My human wife is no longer my priority concern, my dear. When one plays at being god, one cannot let the little things stop you. You came here to fight and to kill. Come Empress," Ray cracked his whip, still smirking. "I will show you the meaning of pain, wench, and then you will come to heel." Rayne felt a burning sensation lace her cheek. The bastard had just whipped her! She felt the blood rage building in her veins like dry acid. He would die begging at her feet for mercy.

"I'll enjoy killing you, you pathetic excuse for a dhampire," Rayne replied coolly. The prick was going to die _very_ slowly. He smirked, turning back to the window. Then he was gone. Rolling her eyes Rayne sighed, annoyed. They always ran trying to find a more 'convenient' place to battle. Not only would this disgrace die slowly, she was now considering draining him dry. Perhaps the most insulting death for any vampire or dhampire. She'd enjoy destroying his ego almost as much as crushing his skull. The giant picture windows were shattered where the lordling had jumped through. Rayne sensed he was waiting for her on the roof. Rayne smirked feeling the incisors dig into her bottom lip. She loved it when they played hard to kill.


	39. The Ritual

Thanks again for the corrections Tamarani! Much appreciated! Enjoy the new and improved chapter!

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**Lauren**

I skidded, trying to turn a ninety degree corner while running full speed. Behind me the hell hounds sounded hungry. Crist. Stumbling I regained my balance only to come to a halt a minute latter. It was a giant stair well, running both directions. Which way? Left or right? A loud crashing sound echoed from the right. Left it was then. Scrabbling I raced up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. The dogs were right on my heel, slobbering and snapping, trying to take a bite out of my flesh. Who the hell owns dogs that freaking big? How is it that I had the wonderful fortune of setting off the intruder alert? A door! Veering off to the left, I paused my frantic running to try the door. Bingo! It was unlocked. What a lucky break. And it about damn time for one, if you ask me. Quickly I slammed the door behind me and locked it.

On the other side I could hear the security dogs from hell snarling and barking. Sick, what were they feeding those things? Panting, I leaned my back against the door, trying to catch my breath as I surveyed the tiny room. There was only one other door out of this place. Well…at least I wasn't stuck in a closet. For an escape plan, there was currently a distinct lack in the actual escape part. No doubt Order members knew I had busted outta my cell by now. The sooner I left the less chance there was of me dying in this hell hole.

I kept my fingers crossed as I slowly opened the door. Nothing but another sterile white hallway. Still anywhere is better than being dead. I eased out of the door a little more. My foot stubbed up against a box on the floor. It looked like a lost and found bin. Searching through it, I found doctor's robes and random bits of clothing. There were more boxes on the shelves too, which is were I found some spare surgeon scalpels. When it rains it fucking pours. Smirking I started to get dressed.

I strode out into the hallway as Doctor Susan Heart. It was all I could do from flipping the security cameras off. Now all I had to do was find my way out of here. I buttoned up the long sweeping doctor's coat over my own bloodstained shirt. Hopefully no one would recognize me. I pushed the down button for the elevator at the end of the hall.

"Well dear," he said in his kind grandfather voice, "I must say I'm impressed." His twig hand was gently pulling my hair away from my neck, straitening it lovingly like grandfather would. His breath was hot on my neck. I literally felt the blood draining from my face.

"Chop," I whispered faintly.

**Vergil**

She wasn't inside. Marionette cords hung from the ceiling, bent all to hell. It was disconcerting to find them there, perhaps he need not look further than the underworld for his third party. Vergil sniffed. Her blood was on the air, corrupted with pollutants he couldn't name, though she had been here recently. She'd freed herself, he saw, looking more closely at the threads. Smart girl. He listened for her. Nothing. Turning Virgil left the room. She better be alive when he found her, killing her was something he wanted to reserve for himself. The stupid human…conveniently leaving out something _that_ important…

**Lauren**

Chop clicked the thick maniacal together. We were outside on the rooftop, and it was beginning to rain. I groaned. What had they made me drink? I felt like I was bruising where Chop had held me, forcing me to be still. How could someone do that to their body?

"Now," Chop said, placing a small green stone on my chest, "it has begun." And then it fucking burned me. Cut through my clothing, lighting a fire under my skin, in my blood, a fire that spread throughout my entire body. Fuck, fuck, fuck this hurt. It was hot. So hot. I was being shoved inside of a furnace. I arched my back, buckling, straining against the manacles. I felt every searing mark Chop had inflicted on my body flaring to life with a new sort of pain. I could literally fell the burning calligraphy searing holes through my clothing. But nothing compared with pain in my back.

The familiar chanting that haunted my dreams began. Around me dark cloaked figures invoked the rites of Alyssa. The burning grew worse, if that was possible, I smelled the scent of my burnt clothing and flesh on the air. I started screaming. I was burning alive. Fuck I hurt. The world was going black and still I was screaming. All I could see was the rain falling from the sky. I felt someone reaching for me, their touch was so cool. It felt like a ghost was holding my wrist. The world faded into black.


	40. Escape Velocity

This chapter is a bit long, I had to meld two mini-chapters together. Enjoy!

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**The Rooftop**

"You!" The angel's voice was carried over the sound of the thunder and rain. The sky was thick with torrents that had been all but a faint possibility a few moments before. From his vantage point the angel could see the man in charge was neither human nor complete of soul. Turning, Doctor Chop eyed the angel from his vantage point on the roof of the hospital. Even through the heavy rain Josh could see the mad look in his eyes. Behind him, the members of the Order did not stop their chanting. Josh could hear Lor screaming, her body alight with an ungodly flame. He knew this ritual and it sickened him to realize what it meant. Flaming sword in hand Josh landed before the man. The heat radiating from Lor was intense, even from where he stood behind the man. "Stop this now and I'll let you live," Josh warned. To that a wide smile filled the ancient doctor's face.

"An angel of God, here to _smite_ _me_? Where were you forty years ago?" the man asked, chuckling.

"You're lucky he gave you warning old man," a voice replied from behind the doctor. The butt of Dante's gun lightly dug into the back of the doctor's head

"Kill me now and she is lost to you both," the old man replied calmly.

"Right," Dante cocked the hammer.

"Put it down," the angel sighed. Dante raised an eyebrow, not moving.

"He's right," Josh replied warily. This was very very _very_ bad. "By now he'll have tied to her consciousness to his soul in order to preserve her sanity. Killing him now would undoubtedly kill Lor and if it didn't she'd live a fate worse than death." Dante chuckled. This was the oldest trick in the book.

"You think too little of Lauren's capacity for stubbornness," Vergil answered flatly.

"Get lost on the way here?" Dante asked dryly, lowering ivory.

"Stubbornness doesn't account for everything," Josh replied eying the new half breed.

"It does in 7B's case," Chop interrupted tranquilly, his mad grey eyes never leaving the ritual performance. "She can do whatever she wills."

"Shut up," Dante growled to the wizened man. "You were planning on this from the beginning, weren't you?" Vergil studied the solar blaze that surrounded Lauren's writhing body before facing his glowering brother.

"Why bother asking me to verify a question like that?"

"Don't piss me off _bro_." Dante's eyes where red, catching all light and drowning it in anger. He was close to transforming, very close. There was no doubt in Vergil's mind that Dante wouldn't hesitate to slit his throat like a suckling pig's. What held him in check, however, was a mystery to him. Twenty years ago Dante's sword would have seen use by now.

"She's not _your_ responsibility Dante," Vergil sighed. Lauren's screams rang in his ears. "However," yamoto slide easily from it's sheath, "I can't let you interfere."

"You might even do her a disservice," the angel murmured. Dante gave him a dead look. The angle wasn't daunted, instead he sized up Vergil. "Should she survive this ritual, it would most likely save her pain latter." Dante glanced to the human, the ritual was nearly over now. The solar star was collapsing in on itself, the light dying, leaving a shuddering gasping weak little human in it's wake. A human girl that had an aura of a demon and black moving angelic marks under her skin as her consciousness was returned to her from the good doctor's own soul. It frenzied the black marks making them writhed frantically at the return of the body's conciousness.

"What?" the doctor shouted, drawing the attention of all three halfbreeds. "Capture her you fools!" Lauren was disappearing, fading from existence the moment her consciousness had been reabsorbed. The order members scrambled to recover her, yet their hands passed through air as they reached for her. The angel smirked.

"Not all in life is allotted for you, doctor." Lauren was being translocated as the human Henry reached for her through the space that divided them. As Josh had asked him to do. He turned to the half breeds before leaving, "I have matters to attend to." Both chose to ignore him. Dante gave his brother a hard stare. Lauren possessed a demon's aura? _…Vergil you bastard. _Oh he'd heard the rumors, hell it had been a part of Sparda's nightly fairy tales, the whole three of them he had cared to tell before up and leaving.

"Then take care of your _responsibility_ Vergil," Dante growled softly. "Not that she'll ever thank you for fucking up her life." To that Vergil felt a smirk on his lips. Ah Dante you _fool_…

**Lauren**

"Lauren! What is that? _Pathetic_! _C'mon! _Higher, harder that's right! Again! Good! Better!" Sion smirked as I wound up for another kick and ended up spinning off balanced as he blocked my blow yet again. It was easy for him to goad me on, he was the adult here, I was just a kid still. However, age was no excuse, and there was no way in hell I'd back down till Sion had caught one in the face. My legs were shaking I was so tired, my throat was dry and sweat was running down my back in rivulets. God I was so hot and tired. "Again! C'mon! Again!" Sion urged me. Coughing I bent over, my hands on my knees. I was so hot, it was hard to breath. I was panting. This had been so easy before. "Lor?" Sion dropped his defensive stance when I didn't walk it off. "You okay kid?"

"Lor?" Someone new was calling me. "Lor wake up." Drowsily I opened my eyes. Where was I? "See, I told you she'd be alright," the woman looked over to the man. He nodded his head, but he didn't look so sure as he did. I stared up at the two of them. My head was in the woman's lap. Who where these people? How had I gotten here? Was I dead?

"Here," he started to take off his blue shirt. I stared up at the two of them blankly. Who where these people? Seriously was I dead? I hurt enough for it. God I wanted a cigarette.

"Who are you?" I asked weakly, trying to sit up. It felt like I had gone into a crematorium and come out the other side by accident. "Where am I?"

"Hold still," the woman commanded me. She looked familiar. Had I seen her somewhere before? Who was she and why did it feel like I'd met her before? She was holding her hand over my heart, easily pushing me down. Her skin felt cool and nice against own, which felt feverish warm.

"Who are you?" I asked again, coughing. Groaning I tried to sit up. Where were the order members? Where was Chop?

"Never did listen to any thing anyone told her," the guy muttered. He tossed the blue shirt over me. I studied him. He was wearing a white undershirt with some blood stains on it. His dark brown hair fell over one eye, just like mine own did. He had clear blue eyes.

"C'mon Lor, don't you remember us?" the woman asked me smiling. I shook my head, staring at her blankly.

"Henry," the man said. He nodded to the woman, "Aileen. You're sure you don't you remember us? Granted it's been nearly fourteen years."

"My god," I whispered. The seven sin children of Silent Hill, my first family…the freaking idiots! They knew the Order was hunting us. "You shouldn't be here!" I snapped trying to sit up. Aileen was still holding me still. I shrugged her off.

"Hold still," Aileen gently smacked me on the head. "It's not easy doing a healing like this."

"Yeah well try bending all that area just to get to her," Henry groan, leaning against the wall. "I thought something bad was happening," he informed me. "Lucky for you we decided to check things out. How you been kid?"

"Not so well," I muttered. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you by chance?" I thought back, so Henry and Aileen had left with each other. That made sense, they had always hung out together when we were little. They'd been like my bigger brother and sister when we'd been at Silent Hill. All of the older kids of the seven sin project had.

"No," Herny replied flatly shaking his head. "Since when do you smoke?" I shrugged not bothering to reply. Beside me, Aileen took her hands from me. I could feel the cool bliss that had flowed weakly from her hands stop. Aileen was like a mini green star…only not so green and shiny.

"Okay, you should be fine now. You might want to put Henry's shirt on dear," Aileen told me. I stared at her blankly. "Your shirt isn't in that good of condition," she pointed out mildly. She was right. My poor white business shirt looked like it had been through a fire and my jeans looked like confetti glued together. Even the thick soles of my combat boots had melted. Goddammit. That was my only pair of combat boots. Nodding I sat up and put the shirt on. What the hell had happened to me? What the fuck was wrong with my skin? It had dark moving marks underneath it. I shuddered looking at them. In any case, there was nothing I could do about it for now, I would be better off to get the hell out of Silent Hill then figure out what they were.

"How do we get out of here?" I asked as I finished buttoning up the shirt.

"We go down," Henry replied standing up. The two turned to me and helped me to my feet. I felt like I was going to be sick. My body hurt to move, so did my heart, but at least they weren't on fire any more. Yay for the small favors in life. I headed out with the two of them. We came to a familiar looking stairwell. God did everything look like a maze in here?

"Great," I groaned. More stairs this place really is hell. "So," I said conversationally. "You guys seem a lot more powerful from the last time we met."

"It grew with age," Henry said distracted. "It evolved too. I can sense things like Tiffany could and I can bend space better now."

"Yeah I know. Thanks for bailing my ass out of the fire." Literally.

"Don't mention it. I'd been having dreams about you getting into trouble. I'm just sorry I didn't listen to them sooner. We might have been here faster of I had. It was Aileen who healed you," he replied, glancing over to me apologetically. "She's a lot stronger now too." Aileen smiled at me. Why is it everyone always sees _me_ getting into trouble? It's not like I ask for it or anything.

"It's good to talk with you guys again," I murmured. Not that any normal pseudo-family reunion should involve running for your life.

"Anything ever happen with you?" Aileen asked curiously. I shrugged.

"Not really, nothing like what you guys can do in any case. I'm just the runt of the litter still."

"I doubt it," Henry replied. "That was a pretty complex ritual. You should keep that in mind. Chances are something will…well, you know." Thanks caption Spoc, like I didn't figure that out for my self. I need a cigarette and bottle of Jack Daniels to help it along. Maybe a bottle of Advil to go with it. Damn migraines were back.

"You were gifted 7B and this is how you repay me?" Chop asked quietly.

"Christ, not again," I groaned. Turning we saw him. I heard Aileen gasp. She never had liked Chop too much in particular and to giver her credit, he had never looked more unpleasant. For starters he had his top off. I could see the metal implanting up close and personal now. It was all over his body, but mostly ran down his spine. He even had extra metal attachments that looked like long metal whips. And lucky girl that I was I already knew how whip like they could be.

Chop was holding himself aloft in the center of the huge circular stair well with the metal extensions. Not the brightest place to hang yourself, we had to be on one of the upper floors, but then again, the Order didn't do 'bright' in large quantities. Chop stared at us with a dead gaze, his hands in his pockets. I wonder how much of him still alive, with all that metal hanging on him, it can't be much. Still he looked the way he had when we were kids: scary and threatening as hell.

"Chop," Henry growled, bristling. Chop had never earned himself any favors with the Seven Sin Children project. Especially when he began to utilize the tower as a form of punishment. Someday though, I was going to stick him in a dark filthy room and leave him to starve for several weeks. See how much he likes it. However, those that run live to possible kill their tormentors later.

"Split up!" I shouted. I took off up the stairs.

"Lor!" Aileen called after me. I saw Henry pulling her along. At least _he_ remembered the drill. Scatter like seeds in the wind and the Order would have that much more of a difficult time finding us all. That was the simple elementary grade plan that had kept us all alive for so long.

"No you don't 7B, not this time. The ritual will be completed, Alyessa will be reborn, and I _will_ be granted immunity to death," Chop told me in his grandfatherly voice. "The blood of the seven sins will be spilt on the alter. And Rage is the most elemental sin of the world my dear." One of his metal tentacles lashed out, twinning itself around my waist even as I struggled. He wanted to see _rage_?

Chop pulled me close. I looked down and I really wished I hadn't. We were twenty stories up at the very least, it made me dizzy. "I have waited too long for this 7B. You will _not_ deny me," he told me softly. Like hell I was giving him anything, the good doctor should know all about the sin of rage, it takes and takes and never gives anything back. There had to be a way out of this. I touched my back pocket, my small surgical blade, they hadn't found it. God I'd been so stupid to forget about it before. Not like it wouldn't have helped me get the hell out of here a little bit faster. Carefully I took it out, hiding it in my hand. It was nearly burning my skin it was so hot, but blisters are a small price to pay to stay alive. I glared at him.

"Go to hell you motherfucking naize," I snapped. I stabbed him in his goddamning eye, right through his damning coke bottle glasses. And that's what he deserved looking at me like I was piece of fucking meat ready for him to dissect. I was no one's piece of animal ass to carve up as they wished. Reeling Chop's metal tentacle let me go as he screamed in pain. I hope the fucking blade burns his eye socket dry. I hurtled though the air. Wall!

I reached out. My body slammed against the wall as my arms screamed in pain. I readjusted my grip on the metal hand railing. That was a lucky grab, even if I had just wrenched my arms and nearly dislocated both sockets. I looked up. Chop was screaming and flailing. No doubt he'd be coming for me soon, pissed as a hornet. Time to move.

I reached, trying to pull myself up and over the railing. Barking, a security dog snapped it's jaws closed an inch from my face. Where they feeding those beasts steroids? I let go, I didn't have any choice: it was chop or chop liver. However, now I was in a pickle. In ten seconds, if I didn't think of anything, I was flattened like pancake on impact. Now what?


	41. Gravity 2

Turning, Vergil listened. It was _her_. He went to the railing and looked up. Well there was Lauren. On her back a red circle still blazed with energy, numerous arcane symbols had bled through her shirt. He'd never seen anything like it before, even the language was unfamiliar. Not demonic in origins…interesting…they saw it fit to give her protections…

Vergil stood on the railing, waiting for his opportunity. He launched out, catching her carefully. Only the Gods knew he was going to kill her for being such a damn pain in his ass. He landed on the other side of the stairwell, perfectly balancing on the hand railing. Coughing, Lauren looked up at him. That's when he saw the markings, right under her skin, moving and writhing with life. They were…angelic perhaps? Yet her aura was twisted with demon influences. The markings, that had not been a part of the ritual. What had they been playing at? What was Lauren exactly?

"You're really fucking late," she said, blinking up at him surprised, "but that was a really nice catch." The smell of infection rose out of her skin, making him want to drop her on the spot with disgust. She had to be in more pain than she was letting on. Even now she was staring at him with slightly glazed eyes, one black and swollen. Humans…were so _pathetically_…**_weak_**….

Vergil felt a sort of blind rage, it was quiet, and barely manifested itself in his countenance, but it was there all the same smoldering beneath his skin. Goddamning stupid girl… Doing this to a weak human…he could fend for himself, amazingly well one might add, but this pathetic _girl_? She was no tougher than the regular human, albeit she acted above her lot in life. _Then take care of your responsibility_. Vergil pushed his brother's words aside.

So there was a third party…someone who wanted Lauren alive only so long as they could wench out that one valuable thing she held within. It was the angels. No doubt about it. That would happen over his dead body. The angels were going to find out how uncomfortable his attention could be. Though it was slightly relieving to find out the queen of hell to still be in ignorance of the situation, however unlikely it was to stay that way. But first…

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked her. Her gold eyes went wide.

"Duck!" she yelled. He smelled the unnaturalness of his foe before the fool lashed out, aiming for the back of his head. The man moved fast for a human. Dropping her, Vergil reacted. The sound of screaming metal drowned out the barking dogs. Blinking, Lauren stared from her place on the ground. Slowly the old man's head rolled onto the ground. Gravity began to take over, and his still body fell over the hand railing, the metal tendrils taking portions of it and wall with his corpse to the first floor. They were still holding on tightly in the doctor's last moments.

"Now," Vergil looked down at her. He wasn't smiling. "Shall we be on our way? You have a large amount of explaining to do, I might add." Vergil pulled her to her feet, grinding his teeth together. He was willing himself not to break her arm in the process.

"You killed him," she said. Her voice sounded diminished somehow. He could see the blood draining from her face. Her gold eyes muted and numb.

"You stabbed him in the eye," he replied flatly.

"You cut his head off."

"With a melted scalpel," Vergil added shortly.

"But you just cut his head off," she said faintly.

"He would have killed you," Vergil stated acidicly. This woman…was so stupid… "Would you prefer to be dead?" That brought her back. Her eyes focused on, looking through him with pin points. If only for the smallest portion of an instant he was unnerved, no one in hell had the gall to openly show such raw anger to his face. Not any more anyways, save for other generals of the queen. Come to think of it he'd never seen Lauren display any emotion beyond annoyed so openly, at least that he could recall with clarity. So this was her angry? Interesting…she _was_ angry, unless he was misreading her. Good, that would make his job easier.

"That wasn't an offer," she snapped. He stared at her. … … … What the hell? Ah… Vergil raised an eyebrow. She made it so easy sometimes.

"You seemed so determined a moment ago, forgive me any lapse in judgment."

"Quit being an ass," she snapped annoyed, pushing her way past him. Easily she booted the dead man's head out of her way before looking over her shoulder. "Let's get the hell out of here." Vergil reigned in his irritation and growing need to destroy something.

"Now that her ladyship has commanded so, I am more than overjoyed to serve her," he replied dryly. Lauren could be as bad as Vali, the only difference between the two was Lauren's distinctive lack of a throne. He was beginning think that all women were the same, no matter the breed. She gave him a dirty look as she made her way down the stairs. It was replaced a minute latter by a brilliant smile. Nothing quite compared to humanoptimism however

"You? Trying humor? Whoa, I must've been here a _long_ time," she laughed. Vergil felt the muscles of his dominant sword hand twitching. She was very lucky she was needed for future plans…an upcoming war among other things. Sighing silently Vergil followed her. Hopefully she'd figure out she was going the wrong direction sooner rather than later. _Stubborn human_…


	42. The Sin of Anger

Due to the fact that Easter Break is coming up, here's a couple moreof chappies for y'all! (Hopefully this will tide ye over for a while.) I won't be posting any more new chappies during easter break and there might be a slight slow down in new postings next week as my life slowly falls to pieces in a flurry of tests and huge paper due dates that come to pass, T.T wah,but after that expect sweet demon killing and more smart mouthing. Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey Vergil! Get your ass down here!" the voice carried on the wind. _Dante_. Vergil sighed, walking to the window. Though it was a relief to have Lauren back in his possession she was, as per usual, a major pain in his ass. She had managed to pull a female stunt and _faint_. He had half thought her too stubborn to give in so easily, though to give her credit she refused to ask for help even when she fell on her face repeatedly, much to his amusement. In the end however, he was stuck lugging her ass around, half-conscious and bitching until he knocked her out. _Women_…they were such a hassle…why did the key have to be a woman? Vergil launched himself from the window and landed next to the fallen angel. 

"Found her bag," Dante slung the black knapsack to Vergil's feet. "I see you found her." Dante eyed the girl. He shook his head, his hands dangerously close to Ebony and Ivory. Even his eyes were narrowed, the spark of red in them that Vergil recognized. Behind him, Vergil could see that he'd gotten the motorcycles.

"Lor!" The human woman from before rushed forward to catch Lauren as Vergil released her. Moaning Lauren, rested her chin on the woman's shoulder, shivering in the night air as she resurfaced. Apparently he hadn't tweaked her nerves hard enough…

"Aileen?" Lauren asked groggily.

"It's okay Lor," Aileen replied soothingly, helping the waif-like figure stand.

"Well, she certainly looks worse for wear," Rayne clicked her tongue, "though not as bad as it could have been." Henry, Josh, and Aileen graced her with a disbelieving look. She held the severed head of the vampire lord Raymund, her fingers entwined into his dark, blood stained hair, but shrugged in response. "You should be thankful she's not insane."

"That's debatable," Henry muttered. He still couldn't believe Lauren had willingly let go of the railing.

"Oh my god," Aileen groaned suddenly. Her face had gone pale. "Henry help me." Vergil could feel Lauren's aura waking, sluggish and slow, draining the life of the woman. He narrowed his eyes, studying the moving black markings underneath the girl's fleshing. Angelic markings weren't supposed to drain the life force of others. In fact they were supposed to do the exact _opposite_. Gasping the woman pushed Lauren away as she fell back into Henry's arms. "What have they done to her?" she panted. All eyed her warily, aware now of her new found unnaturalness. The strangeness she radiated could almost be felt in one's gut. Slowly staggering Lauren began to make her way towards the building, half unconscious as she was. No one made a move to stop her. He _definitely_ hadn't tweaked her nerves hard enough.

"What the hell…?" Rayne murmured, catching sight of the building, "I've never seen a blood field _that_ large." The 'hospital' was giving off a strong pull, much darker than the one Lauren projected. The walls of the hospital began to bleed until every inch of outer surface had been coated. Windows and doors were no exception as the blood formed a red clear unbroken pane over them. Rayne looked over to the girl and suppressed a shudder, trying to push away the growing sense of dread.

"Lor," Eileen murmured, watching her young friend. Black red markings writhed in full bloom, glowing with an evil red light as her aura grew stronger and more demonic.

"Are those angelic scrollings?" Dante raised an eyebrow. Vergil glanced over to his brother, but remained silent. "What did you do this time?" Dante asked aggravated.

"Unleashed something that was better off sleeping," Josh murmured, watching Lor with mild satisfaction. The Grand Master was playing at god now, but he most likely had no idea what it was he had unleashed. Josh looked to the sky, _what_ was _that_?

"Well. That's interesting," Dante commented, watching Lauren and the sky. The glowing sphere grew in mass, darkening sky above the hospital even more if that were possible. It was self contained, roughly the size of half a football field, the shifting fires of hell it held with in clearly visible. Like a thunder bolt it shot off, heading towards the city. Lauren seemed to be drawing a vast amount of energy from it just before it left. That wasn't good. _Trish_…

"Time to go home Dante," Vergil suggested quietly. "Trish and Lucia won't be able take care of that. They're intentions are to overwhelm and they have no purpose of taking prisoners. It's a full hell brigade." Mentally Dante winced. He had just paid off the freaking loan.

"You know what that is?" Rayne asked interested.

"Demons," Vergil replied briefly. "Goatlings, no names, lust, greed, and pride, insect, sin scissors, marionettes and Bloody Maries, maybe a few chess pieces." Vergil hesitated for a moment feeling out with his aura. He sighed. "Maybe the whole chess set. I don't know how many goatlings there are, and there are several differing types of the insect demons: the flyers, preying mantis, spiders, possibly some maggots."

"Some what?" Rayne asked mildly.

"That's all?" Dante asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'm almost insulted."

"They must not want to waste their resources," Vergil replied dryly. Dante looked to his brother, a glint in his eye.

"You going to take care of little miss glow in the dark?"

"Don't patronize me," Vergil replied, looking to the frail figure. She was getting closer to the building, one shaky step at a time. Her aura was nearly triple that of Dante and his combined. He wasn't sure which bothered him more, the sheer size of her aura, the angelic scrolling under her skin, or the immense, raw power of demonic influences just waiting to be tapped. He could literally see the skin on her back sewing itself together. Glazen, a red seal of some sort blazed to life, keeping her alive against the invading darkness that sought to overwhelm her soul. There was no way she should have been able to heal like that. No _normal_ human was able to heal like a demon with out a great personal sacrifice. And her aura….it was so demonic now…so much more noticeable than it had been before… How was it possible for a human unlike Dante and himself to wield such a powerful demonic aura, prophesizes aside for a moment?

"What?" Rayne asked Dante. "Who's Trish and Lucia?"

"Those were summoned demons, and their mailing address was most likely my shop and wherever it is you live," Dante answered her earlier question. He revved the motorcycle engine into life, swinging a leg over the seat. "I don't care what you do," Dante looked at her with cold eyes, daring her to ask the obvious. "But whatever you decide, stay out of my way." Damn, Rayne thought, catching on, why are they all taken?

"Henry," Eileen whispered. "What did they do to her?"

"I don't know," he held her close. "I don't even know if we can help her."

"Tiffany will do her best to help Lor," Josh replied warily. By then, Lauren had stopped stumbling and was standing stock still before the glowing edifice. The demonic auras came to life then, dancing around her like red will o' wisps. Vergil studied Lauren, considering. An aura that strong would overwhelm and kill most humans.

Easily, as if she was born to it, Lauren began to pool the engery in the upraised palm of her hand. There a glowing energy source flared, like a miniature sun. Lauren brought her hand down, sending the ball of fire towards the hospital. It was an amazing little show of power. Before them, the hospital burst into flames and collapsed as the energy bomb Lauren had sent collided with it. And with the blood field holding everything in, the effect was that of an implosion. Nothing was left behind but blackened scorched rubble and dust after the initial flash of light.

"My god," Eileen stared at Lauren, slowly performing a cross over both her shoulders. Vergil glanced at them.

"Have fun Vergil," Dante muttered, shaking his head. "I pity you when she decides to do the same thing to your sorry ass." Spinning the bike around, Dante peeled rubber and took off. Behind him Rayne followed, hell bent on keeping up.

"Get lost," Vergil told the humans and angel crossly.

"What are you going to do?" the woman demanded.

"Aileen," Henry warned her. The half demon didn't bother replying. Josh sighed, the demon would take care of Lor, he had figured as much. Ironic really, a son of Sparda finishing that which his father had put into motion so long ago.

Vergil reached Lauren as the excess energy burned off, leaving her aura nothing more than a human's aura. Interesting… Vergil caught her as she fell. She was warm to the touch, to the point of actually burning his hands. Her aura was leeching the life from what remained of their surroundings now, trying to find the energy necessary to support her body. The dark angelic scrolling and protective seal underneath her skin was fading. He could feel her aura pulling at his own, greedy for energy. Reluctantly, he began to feed his aura via the Amerhurst.

Thorn in his side _woman_…he was damned if he was going to be her _babysitter_… With such power sleeping inside, however, it would be difficult to suppress her true nature. Satisfied she wouldn't die, he picked her up. Vergil glanced once again at the humans and the angel. The woman looked horrified, the man, grim, and yet the angel wore a satisfied expression. He nodded to Vergil before turning to the humans. An angel? On the same side as a demon in a war? Vergil felt a wry grin touch his lips. Apparently he wasn't the only one irritated with the powers that be. Together the humans left with the angel, never looking back. It was such a familiar reaction.

"Welcome to the other side of the mirror, Lauren," Vergil whispered to her softly. There was no doubt in his mind she would come to hate him for this.


	43. Rinse

**Vergil**

He landed softly on the loose gravel of the ally way and pulled back into his human form. They were downtown in the city a good half an hour fly from the psychotic hospital. Vergil shifted the girl to one arm. She was out cold, but wasn't resting easy. She kept twitching and shifting, murmuring in dream language. Out of his pocket he pulled a card key. Chances were he'd be able to keep her at one of his homes for a while, though he loathed the idea. Her own home wouldn't be safe, the Order or whom ever had manipulated the Order into acting in such a brash manner, would be searching the city for her. The game of shadow chess had begun and right now, the ball was in his court. _The angels had best tread lightly._

Casually Vergil shifted Lauren again, tilting her head down. Any observer would see a drunk girl being led back to home by a friend nothing more, and dismiss it just as easily. Was this place really the safest location to store Lauren? No, but what choice was there? Besides, what could the Order dish out that he couldn't handle? They were pathetic humans on the same level as Arkum had been… … …and probably just as dangerous to deal with when they got their hands on real power. Sobered, Vergil walked into the brightly lit lobby. It was elegant in a small town type of way.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the man at the front desk stared at the two of them, surprised. Vergil eyed him, just human no connections he could sense, but still… He placed the card key on the counter separating them.

"You have my room key?" He asked. Lauren moaned softly.

"One moment please," The man fiddled with his computer. He felt his impatience rising with each second. This little piss ant was going to be missing a few fingers if he didn't hurry up. Tonight had been more lengthy than he had wanted it to be. There were many things to be considered, an upcoming war between hell and heaven among other things, if the numerous rumors were true.

"Ah here we are, your room key, Sir," the man looked to Vergil, curiosity aroused. The attendant searched the other's face, but was met with unflinching ice blue eyes. "We'll tack any expenses onto your billing. Have a pleasant night." The man handed a small metal key to Vergil. Lauren moaned again.

"Is she alright?" The man asked concerned. Vergil glanced from Lauren to the man.

"You know how stupid some women can be," Vergil replied, raising an eyebrow. He turned to the elevator.

"Maybe you should get her to a hospital? There's one in downtown. I can give you directions if you like," the man offered helpfully.

"We just came from there," Vergil replied flatly as the elevator doors closed in front of him.

Once the doors had been firmly locked and the barriers spells put in place, Vergil set Lauren down on the spare bed. Her eyes were open, but whether or not she understood what was going on was another matter altogether. He slung her bag on top of the dresser and flipped the key down next to it. He searched through his pockets. One yellow orb, two stars…hm, how would she react to these? Vergil turned to Lauren as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. He would wait on that, at least until he knew more. Primarily until he knew what Lauren knew.

"Where?" She groaned looking around.

"You're safe, for now," Vergil studied her. He didn't add that she might not be if he lost his temper soon, which he just might. She didn't look as bad as she had before they left the hospital. She was healing too fast…almost as fast as himself, with out the added demonic effects on her aura, with out the angelic scrolling even. What had they done to her? It was dangerous to awaken something like that pre-maturely.

"I need to use the bathroom," She licked her cracked lips, trying to speak. Vergil got the bag and helped her to the bathroom, annoyed beyond all hell. She was so _weak_. At least she was healing. Ultimately it would mean less time acting as her nursemaid. He wondered how the protection marks on her back would look like now, whether or not they would be healed….

"Clean yourself up, after that you have a lot of explaining to do," Vergil snapped. Stupid girl… She healed like a demon yet she had angelic markings. She was a full blooded human, what had been given up in exchange for all this? Depending on what it was, it could severely displace his plans, though finding out would be particularly tricky. Vergil paced the room as he listened to the water run in the bathroom. After a few minuets the waterfall ceased. She was taking a bath. Did she ever think? Especially of what she would do if her enemies surrounded her in such an exposed condition? He shook his head disgusted. The entire home was protected, should the Order decide to retaliate. She was lucky he was thinking for her, lucky she wasn't dead, lucky that even though he was considering several ways of maiming her none of his fantasies would be enacted as a reality. However vivid they got to be at times. Taking a large amount of red orbs from his pocket Vergil considered what to do with them. They could buy a lot of information in the right places. He set them in the small bag on the dresser as well. That being done, he silently waited.

**Foreshadow**

"The key has been awoken?"

"I think so. They did everything they were suppose to do, nothing spectacular went wrong with the ritual. Though I think it might have hurt her."

"I see. What disturbs you, my son?"

"I didn't actually _see_ it happen. However, I did see a manifestation of her power."

"There was no awakening by the scion?"

"No, not that I saw."

"Praise Lord. Those foolish demon worshiping dredges of humans went further than I had anticipated they would. Tell me is the eye-?"

"They infused her with it."

"I see. Good, it's possible that _that_ might work to our advantage. Though we must tread lightly in the future."

"Sir?"

"Yes Raziel?"

"When will I see my sister again?"  
"Have faith in our Lord my son, everything is done in his time."

"You mean everything is done as my mother has instructed?"

…. …. ….

"Sir?"

"Yes Raziel, everything will be done as your mother, Satan, has instructed."

**Lauren**

Peeling off blood encrusted bandages hurts like a bitch. It's even worse than pulling off a band aid and finding out you took the scab with it. Those Order motherfuckers at the hospital hadn't even bothered to change them while I had been out of it. Things were definitely at a negative fifty on the 1 to 10 shit-o-meter. At least I'm justified acting like a cranky bitch for while. I got a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. A skinny stick with skin that was yellowish pale, dirty raggy hair, completed by the bruises and the swelling gaping holes in my skin were the good doctor cut it away. My whole body was cut up. Standing naked before the mirror I saw the scarred pathways cut into my skin like a tattoo. Nothing on my body was untouched from Chop; even my breasts were cut up. I'm starting to think it was good thing I was drugged out of my mind for most of the 'operations'. The scar tissue ran from my wrists to my face to my ankles and heels. Dammit. Fucking naize son of a bitch…the only good thing about tonight was that I would never have to see his goddamning hideous face again. Though to make myself feel better, it would be fun to punt it around a couple of times.

The bath was a bitch to take, the towels would have been too coarse even if they had been made of Egyptian cotton. I changed into a loose t-shirt that had been laying around. My own clothes were trashed, big surprised there. But as I pulled my scabbered arm through the sleeve hole, I noticed something. It was healed…or healed more than it had been before. The scar tissue was faint and almost unnoticeable.

Or was it healed before I had come here? Come to think of it where was I anyways? Other than the obvious answer that I was in a bathroom. I thought back, Vergil had come and gotten me… was _Vergil_ really out there waiting for me? Goddamn, my memory is still lapsing, that cann't be a good sign. So, the real question is, where is all the scar tissue? All the pounds of flesh that got taken out of me? …Christ… Were they healing? …how the hell was that possible? What the hell was this?

…

I think I need a cigarette.

I hit myself on a still exposed piece of non-flesh on my left wrist. It stung and hurt and a little blood even welled out of it where I had torn the thin scab layer off. I watched as the skin slowly sewed itself back together again, no blemish left behind. There was nothing, no scar, no red mark, nothing but pure flawless flesh. How was this possible? How could I be healing like Vergil?

Damn…my head. Jesus fucking Christ give me some fucking warning would you? Not like I didn't get my skin just peeled off by one of your more insane sheep. Grinding my teeth together against the pounding pain behind my left eye, I tried to keep my balance as the bombs went off in my head. Oh…god…my head…my fucking head. I lashed out, trying to make it stop. Faintly I hear something crack and break, far beyond the explosions and war that raged in my head. God…make it stop…


	44. Theory of a Black Hole

**Theory of a black hole, The Christian Science Journal of America:**

…Sometimes it's even been said that a black hole is where god chose to divide by zero. This I can assure you, is not so. Rather a black hole is something that allows no light, the essential element of our lord's love and the hope of life eternal, with in it. Thusly, we can assume, a black hole is something that is consumed with death and despair, it's nature is one of fundamental evil…

**The Other**

She was taking her time. Annoyed Vergil stood up and went to the window. There was nothing out there. He was getting impatient with waiting. He'd been waiting for the better part of fifteen years now. Behind, he heard the bathroom door slowly swing open. He could smell the shampoo and soap she'd used during her shower on the warm, muggy air leaking out of the bathroom. How hot had her shower been anyways?

"Done yet?" Vergil asked dryly, not bothering to turn around. Slowly her footsteps made their way into the room. She said nothing. Turning, he stared at her. She had found something to put on, some of his clothes, he noticed annoyed. A worn shirt hung off her frame like a short dress would. Her head was bent, the long wet hair hiding her face. He could only see her red mouth, pulled into a slight frown. "Lauren?" he asked mildly. He sniffed, she didn't smell like she ought. Something was wrong, her aura was swelling again, getting stronger and more demonic.

"Vergil?" she slowly tilted her head up. The hair fell away, revealing her face, her long bangs still hiding one golden eye. The other looked glassy and unaware. Was she going into shock? Doubtful. Lauren hadn't gone into shock at the hospital, she most likely wouldn't now. The aura was so overwhelming with in the room, it was seeping into every available space. "I think I broke it," she murmured quietly.

"What?" His hand brushed the hilt of his sword. Slowly, as if she were underwater, she lifted her left arm. There, half way between the wrist and elbow, a shard of mirror nearly as large as his hand was embedded in her flesh. Her blood was trickling down her arm, dropping softly onto the carpet.

"You're not feeling well, Lauren, you should sit down," he replied guardedly.

"Really?" she asked. Her voice was different now. Not slow or sickly like before, but strangely confident. Defiant almost. Briefly, Vergil closed his eyes. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next. "Is that what you think I should do?" she hissed.

Vergil watched her pull the shard out, unflinching, waiting for his reaction. There was no emotion on her face, and still her aura grew. He could feel it brushing against his skin like small feathers. Around him, her aura was making the room into a black hole. There was no ceiling, no floor, no walls, just blackness, himself and Lauren. Glancing up, he reacted before he could think better of it. With a flick of his hand, Vergil knocked aside the mirror shard Lauren had thrown at him. The edge cut his hand briefly before breaking like wineglass.

"So," her voice was soft as silk in the darkness, playful even, in a more seductive way than he was willing to believe Lauren capable of. "What does little Vergil desire with all his black little soul?" She looked up at him with sharp golden eyes, the angelic scrolling beneath her skin vivid and awake.

"And you would be?" he asked mildly. She smiled, amused. It was a smile that had once brought grown men groveling to their knees. Vergil stayed firmly standing. He'd done his share of groveling over the years and he was no mere mortal to do so now.

"I am what I am. But enough of that, pray tell, what are you?" she cocked her head to the side, studying him. "When I last fell into oblivion, things like you didn't exist. It was still considered blasphemy. Times must be changing." She smiled, her mouth unkind. She started to pace a circle, playing with long ends of her hair.

"The physical manifestation of the key, I take it?" Vergil asked, walking in the same circle as she was. She stopped pacing and faced him, her smile disappeared.

"And how would the likes of you know anything about that?" she asked. For the first time, Vergil returned her smile.

"I didn't summon you, others did, but the means all lead to the same end. They were preparing for a war."

"A pity," she replied coldly. She held up a hand, out of her aura she twisted a flame. "I shall have to kill you either way, though I thank you for the helpful information."

"You could try," he agreed. "Though truth be told, I'd hate to be forced to hurt your host body." It was a threat most manifestations would balk at. Not this one however, she merely smirked at this.

"You could try," she mocked him, pausing for a moment, "but this is no host body." Vergil narrowed his eyes at that. Seeing this she raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you know? I am the _reincarnation_ of everything the angels need and fear. That is why they saw it fit to infuse my body with the missing eye of God. I see everything, demonling, and I know your plots." She drew herself up. "I cannot allow you to pursue this path anymore than I can allow my enemies to."

"A pity," he mocked her, "but the choice isn't yours to make." She snarled at him then, lashing out. She missed burning his face off by mere millimeters. Incredible. It was nice to know there was hope for Lauren. With a hand Vergil reached for the amerherst half that hung below her collar bone. Fortunately for him, this thing in Lauren was also unaware of what it was that hung on the silver chain. He squeezed the cold hard metal in his hand, allowing his aura to pour in like a tidal wave. Gasping, the being inhabiting Lauren's body went stock still.

"May God pity you for making a prisoner out of me, fool," she hissed bitterly, "did you care for the human consciousness I possess, you would not do this." The aura within the room was dissipating rapidly. Already the floor and walls had returned intact. The scrolling under Lauren's skin was fading.

"Time will tell," he allowed, pouring more of his aura into the small amulet.

"I shall see you, at your end," the being promised. The last of the hellish light left Lauren's eyes and the scrolling and aura faded away completely. Blinking she stared at him, slightly dazed. He dropped the amerhurst.

"Run out of hot water?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She continued to stare at him, blinking silently.

"How did I get out here?" she asked blankly. He felt a smirk dancing on his mouth. She didn't remember? Convenient.

"Is little Lauren losing her mind?" Annoyance flickered in her eyes, along with something else, something akin to fear. Dread perhaps?

"If I said yes, would you stick me in a mental facility?" she asked warily.

"Not unless you wanted to return to one," he replied. She gave him a dirty look.

"Not funny." Turning she took in the room. Her balance was off. "I'm so tired." Stumbling she tried to walk. Reluctantly, he caught her before she fell. "Can I sleep here?" she asked, staring up at him. It seemed no good deed went unpunished. Already her eyes were hooded with sleep. She was fading fast. Not surprising really, considering the amount of energy that had been exchanged with her aura that night.

"If you must."

"Really tired," she sighed. And with that she was asleep. _Pathetic_. He dropped her onto the spare bed. She never stirred, though the black markings beneath her flesh were back. Perhaps it was Lauren's consciousness that controlled their appearance.

"What are you really little human?" Vergil murmured, considering the memory of the other being's eyes.

"Despairing." The reply was soft as a sigh as she stirred, never waking. He pulled back, studying her. Her cheek was cushioned by the pillow, the yellow stone of the amerhurst glimmered in the overhead light. He thought of the being that had just emerged and fed more of his aura into the amerhurst. Slowly the black markings faded once again.

This was dangerous and he knew it, exchanging so much of one's aura with another's often bore side effects. Memories and thoughts often somehow found their way into the other's aura, and Lauren's possession of his thoughts and memories was decidedly best avoided. Nor did he desire her sordid and trite memories. Having Lauren in his head was the closest thing to horror he could imagine after 20 years of service in hell.

As it was he doubted she'd sleep through the night. However, until she was back to her normal self, that's how it would be. Never before had it actually been demanded of him to give something of himself _freely_ in exchange for what he sought. He drew the covers over her. She was important now, whether she knew it or not. She was stuck with this till everything had run it's course. He switched the light off and left the room without further comment.


	45. The Return part 1

**The Return (part 1)**

Dante let the motorcycled fly. It zoomed on ward, crashing through the shop's front doors. Dante came in next himself, Ebony and Ivory a blaze of lightning. Damn. There were so many of them…already dead? Dante looked around. The place was cleaned out, save for the few his motorcycle and guns had taken out. Rubble from chess pieces lay all over the place. Dante moved to the back of the shop. He could hear them still fighting somewhere behind the house.

Rayne followed him, picking her way around the flaming wood more carefully. What was it with these people? _They might actually be able to keep up with me._ Rayne followed the half demon into what appeared to be the back. It was an alleyway, but it may have been a scene from a battle field. Pieces of demons lay strewn about. Rayne had never seen utter chaos unleashed in such a controlled manner. She stood still and watched, fascinated by the scene unfolding before her eyes.

One woman, a blond, threw her sword like a deadly boomerang, it sliced and diced every thing it came into contact with as it spun through the air. Meanwhile, she was dishing out pain hand and fist. A single kick sent several demon puppets flying through the air…and into another's thrown daggers.

Rayne immediately recognized Lucia's handiwork. The marionettes were soon nailed to the concrete ground by daggers. The dhampire found herself liking the way the sweet blooded Arcadian moved. She narrowly avoided blows meant for her and retaliated with the skill of a balancing cat. Trish was mashing the nailed down puppets into saw dust while a centaur goat inched up behind her. Rayne realized she was completely unaware of it. Her eyes widened, and unbidden, her blades began to move of their own skill. This was going to be fun. Rayne could feel the blood frenzy building…she wondered vaguely how demon blood would taste…

The goat centaurs were gone. Dante was there, holding a bloodied sword. Stupid woman, how many times had he told her, 'watch you friggin' back'? Hell he shouldn't have needed to tell her that by now.

"Hey babe, miss me much?" Dante greeted her.

"Where were you? We had to get this party started with out you," Trish yelled to him over the dying roar of another Billy goat. She ripped her sword from were it was buried deep in it's innards. "Did you find Lor?"

"She's with Verg," Dante threw two marionette up wards for Lucia to finish off.

"Well that's nice. Did you know she has very interesting friends?" Trish asked him. She lunged forward with her sword, hitting a goat behind Dante and just narrowly missing him.

"Well she knows Vergil. But I suppose there's more?" Dante breathed. Her beautiful grime splattered face was mere inches from his. She was close enough to kiss. Trish smiled at him. They pulled apart spinning, each taking the other's target.

"Just look at them," Trish nodded down the hall, "they've actually been quite useful." Dante was stunned by what he saw. The cast off angel, wielding his sword with actual talent. Pretty good for some sissy angel too. His wife was there as well. Flames were dancing around the two of them, burning every demon it touched.

"How well can she do that?" Dante asked Trish, a plan was forming in his mind. The fuckers had nearly destroyed the place, no doubt he'd have to take out another loan to fix everything up again. Goddammit. He jumped and came down, slamming his sword tip first into a pawn demon.

"Do what?" Trish had the scythe part of Sparda out, and was trimming down waves of marionettes like corn stalks.

"The fire trick," Dante dodged the pawn's swords and blocked a blow by a sin scissors meant for Trish. She was getting tired and careless…

"Pretty damn well," Trish pulled out a shot gun and blew the sin scissor's face away. Tired she may have been but she still knew how to show the demons she was pissed, Dante thought.

"Then tell her to get pyro with it," Dante yelled to Trish.

"I'm on it," she called back over her shoulder. Dante finished off the pawn with little difficulty. Trish was almost through the thick and was reaching the pair. He turned to the dhampire and Lucia. They were doing fairly well. Lunging he threw himself into the fray again. _Another_ loan. _Damn_…

Tiffany let the fire burn and purify every thing in the ally way. It was good to cleanse the world of demonic sins against the mother earth, she thought. Once the demons had died, Tiffany let the flame die as well. She felt faint. Josh held her gently and led her into the shop and set her down on a chair. He was worried about her, but had decided not to make a deal of it. For that Tiffany was grateful, her natural need for secrecy lay deep and impregnable in the recesses of her character. She even avoided karaoke bars whenever possible. Though Lor made that as difficult as all hell.

"Well that was…interesting," Dante was watching the couple. Trish sighed and threw the shotgun on the worn desk as she took her place beside him.

"There goes another one," she told him.

"What a shame," he replied. Trish chuckled.

"We only have three more draws of them." _And with the way she goes through them we'd better_. He didn't bother to voice his opinion however.

"So this is what you two do for a living," Rayne commented. She was picking globs of demon blood from her short swords. It was decidedly most unappetizing, thus the uncharacteristic blade cleaning. "Hanging around with demons is quiet an interesting way to spend the night."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Lucia demanded as she stalked into the room. Lucia wasn't a night person at the best of times.

"Of course I do, but I find it rather difficult to travel during the day, which began just now," Rayne replied coolly. "Perhaps there would be shelter found here for the dhampire Empress?" She looked to Dante.

"There's a room in back, you can't miss it," Dante pointed with Ivory before continuing to play with it. Circling the gun flashed in his hands.

"You broke the front doors again," Trish surveyed the scene. "That's brings the total to about four times more or less."

"You know I like to make an entrance," he replied raising an eyebrow. "Though if I recall, you're tally is up to seven." Lucia snorted.

"I suppose that makes this place unsafe?" she asked. Dante shook his head.

"Not at all," the angel man interrupted. "I have some connections, it's the least we can do. Consider it payment, if you will. What kind of door do you need?"

"Solid maple, or any hard wood," Trish replied. "Anything that will let demon blood be absorbed into it."

"Right," Josh nodded. "If I could use a phone for a moment?"

"This way," Lucia told him. She turned to Dante and Trish, "I'm sleeping. Call me if you need me."

"Well," Dante watched Trish get up from her place beside him and head for the kitchen, "it seems that we'll be have a full house for the day."

"What exactly has Lor gotten herself tangled up into now?" Tiffany asked quietly. "Every time I think about her, I get visions of things that shouldn't be. Things that aren't possible."

"Well you know what they say about heaven and hell," Dante commented.

"And that's the real reason you came here?" Trish asked. She had just come in with some drinks. She gave Dante a beer, to Tiffany she a water, and for herself she kept a juice. Trish was caffeine and sugar addict to say the last. Dante didn't bother questioning it anymore, alcohol worked better and she knew it.

"Partly. Did you find anything out?" Tiffany asked. "What is she searching for?"

"_Vergil's _looking for the Scion of Balance and the three artifacts associated with it," Dante shrugged. "No idea what he thinks he's going to do when he gets all of them though." Tiffany audibly inhaled. Apparently, like Lor, she was somewhat, or perhaps even better versed in the darker side of the spectrum of existence. Trish sighed.

"Wonderful," Trish turned to Dante. "Perhaps you were right about that brother of yours. The Scion of Balance is a tall order to fill." Trish began to chuckle. "Well, I was getting board with this anyways." She gestured to the worn room. "We haven't had any serious fun in a while now." Unfortunately for Dante 'serious fun' usually involved taking out yet _another_ loan to rebuild the place from the floor up…like he was going to have to do tomorrow.

"Have some fun?" Tiffany regarded the two. "It was prophesized that when the Scion comes he or she will recreate existence in his image, for good or worse. The proverbial human embodiment of god."

"We can deal with the worse," Dante reassured her coolly. "But before that, we have to get the key to the scion."

"And this key is found where?" Tiffany asked him. She took a sip from her glass. How could she not know who the key was? Humans were weird.

"The key would be with Vergil at this moment," Dante told her mildly. "Seeing as you said you always know when she's hurt or in pain, I'm surprised you didn't already know what she was." Tiffany looked at him with big eyes. She swallowed her water slowly, looking faintly green. Even Trish stared at him slightly amazed.

"Huh," Trish was the first to break the silence, recovering. "Go figure."  
"What is it?" Josh reentered the room. Well wouldn't this be a shock for the angel boy…things seemed to be falling into place a little too perfectly…even an exiled angel present to temp the scion to good. How quaint. Dante was disgusted with it already. So what role did the sons of Sparda play this time? The Devil? Please…that was so clichéd.

"Were you aware that Lor was the Key to the Scion of Balance?" his wife asked him.

"She's unusual," Josh shrugged. Trish busted into laughter.

"To say that least."

"I'm going to kill her," Tiffany sighed, rubbing her temple. The stupid girl, she knew better. Her ass was scorched when she came back. Tiffany only hoped the Order had left enough of Lor's ass intact for her to do so.


	46. Nallius

Post-easter goodie for y'all! Enjoy! (What can I say? Actually reading the directions to your homework might just cut off few hours of it.)

* * *

I woke up in a clean smelling room. In an actual bed. Looks like my luck is getting better. My head hurt, my body hurt-big surprise there-but now I was hungry. Extremely hungy. Stretching, I sat up, looking around. It was a pretty nice room, actual furniture and non-padded walls. There was carpet on the floor and the sun was faintly shining through the window. How long had I been out? Come to think of it, where exactly was I? Then again, it could be worse I guess. It wouldn't be the first time I'd woken up in a strange place….though wearing some else's clothing was a new one. 

I scratched my head trying to remember where I'd been and how I'd got here. I knew I wasn't at Silent Hill. Hell I _remembered_ Vergil cutting off Chop's head. It was right up there next to the memory of lighting up my first cigarette. After that though…things got fuzzy again...I remembered Vergil, being an asshole like usual and bitching about me using too much hot water, then umm…falling asleep? So I was at Vergil's house hnnn? I smell opportunity…but that comes after my stomach stops growling. Sighing I stood up and wrapped a sheet around me. There were distinct disadvantages to not having pants.

I ground my teeth together as I padded into the bathroom. There they were my ruined clothes. Goddammit, this was like four outfits now. What does a girl have to do to keep her shit in good shape? Muttering to myself I pulled on the confetti pants. Believe it or not they didn't look too bad, not much for protection if I got into another fight, but not bad all the same.

Where the hell was Vergil anyways? The place was like a ghost town. All the way down the dark hallway, into the living room with the big ass wall mirror, and into the kitchen, and still no Vergil. For a control freak, he was disappointing my expectations. Hmm, did my partner abandon me again? ….Well, he couldn't complain that I raided his fridge. If he didn't want me in it he should have stuck around to stop me. Not that I gave a rat's ass about what he would say. I was hungry enough to eat his stupid leather couch and chairs if they so much as mooed at me. And just my luck, the boy has a nice stash of Jack Daniels. Hope he wasn't saving it for anything.

Fifteen minutes latter I was half way through the first bottle of jack, sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs in the living room, and I _still_ wasn't buzzed. What the fuck? Can't I get a break anywhere? Though the booze was filling me up faster than it usually did. And I don't mean it was filling me up as in getting me _drunk_, I mean it was filling me up as in I was getting _full_. Well this is boring. Sighing I looked over to the wall mirror. God that thing was huge. I wonder how much it was worth….probably not the seven years of bad luck I would get if I broke it. Oh man…I'm seeing shit…_again_….

I watched as a black cloud slowly leaked onto the mirror surface. It looked like some one had dropped a bottle of ink onto it. The ink blob grew, taking the shape of a humanoid looking shadow. Slowly the shadow grew more defined and detailed until I was looking at….the werecat of the black lagoon?

The cat's reflection stared at me with sly dark eyes set into a cat square face. In her armored dress and ax in hand I had a feeling she wasn't just here to pay a visit to Vergil. I sniffed, tar pit smell, check, tingling feeling running up my spine, check. Maybe this wasn't just the jack. I set the bottle of jack onto the coffee table as the cat demon stepped _out_ of the mirror. No doubt about it, I was in Vergil's house.

"Hello," I stared at it blinking. The cat demon grinned at me, showing long canines. Next to her two blurry shadows the shape and size of a really big house cat prowled at her side. They were like normal panthers...only made entirely of shadows…ah fuck. Dammit Vergil, where the hell are you now?

In one hand the cat demons hefted an ax, a cruel looking smile on her face. I think I knew what she was, surprisingly. Panther demon/nesses are known for cunning and stealth and for their annoying ability to be almost impossible to kill as they had a tendency to melt into shadows. Kinda like hell's assassin messengers, the silencers of opposition. Hell, the panther shadow demons were probably the source of the concept of 'ninja'. Vergil must really be pissing someone off if panther demons were looking for him. I would know, the Order had been sending them after me for years now.

"You're his human partner aren't you?" the cat hissed, her voice had a strange melodious quality to it. There's that inferiority complex again. I reached for the jack, not bothering to reply and threw back a throat full before setting to bottle down again. I haven't had a cigarette in weeks. I don't get one soon and heads will roll.

"What would you do if I said yes?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"Ever been skinned alive?" the cat purred.

"Actually, I think I have," I replied sourly. On several different occasions I might add. Kicking I sent the bottle of jack flying towards her face as I got the hell out of the chair. Good thing too, miss kitty decided to put her ax blade into it just as I left, spitting and hissing up a storm. Apparently she doesn't like jack quite as much as I do.

Stumbling backwards I took up a relaxed defensive stance. I couldn't manage much more than that, I was still way too weak for anything else. Dammit, I wanted to get drunk, not exercise. I just did the whole fight to survive thing. Behind me I saw the shadow cats literally melt up out of the ground. God…freaking…dammit…how the hell do you maim a shadow? No wonder Lady Mary always said I should run instead of trying to fight these monsters. This was going to be interesting in my confetti pants, barefoot, and completely weaponless.

Snarling, the cat over my left shoulder lunged. I spun on my heel to face it, clenching a fist. Aware that even as I did so the other panther was lunging. If I got lucky I could take them both, as doubtful as that was. If I wasn't lucky, which-let's face it-I haven't been for the better part of three years, it was going to hurt like a fucker when that big freaking cat blindsided me.

Amazingly, they never even touched me. A flash of blue and the shadow cat I had turned to face was dead. As in head-flying-till-it-hit-the-far-wall-and-slide-to-the-floor-to-melt-and-disappear-in-a-puddle-of-dark-goo dead. Blinking I stared at the space where the cat had been a moment before. What the hell..? Blue? …_Vergil._

"Enough," the cat demonness hissed. Turning I saw Vergil standing over the cat demoness. She was holding a severely injured shadow panther, staring up at him. Her eyes were alive with fire. ….Vergil just cut a shadow panther's head off…right…I think I want the bottle of jack's back.

"I certainly hope you have a reason for being here Nallius," Vergil replied mildly. His sword was dripping a dark oil-like substance. In her lap the shadow panther whimpered, a long dark winding trail down it's side.

"The queen requested that I investigate the incident in the lands of Silent Hill. Strangely enough when I discovered humans in possession of the Eye of God the queen bade me to find it. You're scent was all over that place Nero," the cat woman growled. Her eyes trailed past him to me. "And your human is about as well mannered as you are." Vergil spared me a glance before returning his attention to the demoness.

"She and I are none of your concern Nallius." To that Nallius hissed.

"Don't play me for the fool Nero, I've heard the rumors. I see the proof with my own eyes. When the queen learns of this-"

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Vergil interrupted mildly in the same neutral business voice that says you're an inch from losing limb or head. Or whatever happens to be closer to his sword at the moment. Hmm…maybe I should go get the mop and bucket for when Vergil was finished… Not that I wasn't learning something here. So what exactly did Vergil have to gain out of messing with the queen of hell. Oh _god_, I can't believe I'm that stupid. Someone hit me with a fricking shovel for being so stupid. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't mind ruling hell. Especially if I was Vergil. The want for some jack has just been upped to a code red priority.

"The queen requests your presence," Nallius hissed. A smirk spread over Vergil's face. Well, can't say I ever liked the shadow cats or their mistress too much to begin with, but damn…what is this half demon getting me into? Then again…when one plays at politics, one has to be pretty brutal and if need be, bloody as hell. I would know, acting as a fey's tool of terrorism made me painfully aware how far some people are willing to go to get their message across clearly. Vergil is no exception to this rule.

"I see." Like lightning a spray of black splattered across the white carpet. I eased my eyes open to see Nallius covered in the shadow panther's black blood. She looked speechless, but that was quickly replaced by raging anger. It's definite, Vergil has no tact. And he seems to get a kick out of pissing off women. Myself a case in point. I'm covered in freaking demon blood now. Goddammit, this was like outfit number five.

"I will skin you alive half breed," Nallius snarled, standing up. "And boil you in oil."

"So you continue to say," Vergil replied flatly.

"Someday soon you will rue killing the messenger, half human."

"That's doubtful, the queen always seems to get new grunts to do her dirty work." To this Nallius bristled, her eyes livid. Apparently, 'grunt' was a little too insulting for her tastes.

"General Thalis's death did not go unnoticed, Nero. May I find satisfaction in the knowledge that you've made the grave mistake of killing the queen's more recent lover." With that the demonness turned, tail bristling, and left through the mirror. Well, Vergil was screwed. Sighing I reached for the bottle of jack that was emptying it's contents into a puddle of shadow cat blood. Hopefully it wasn't contaminated. I really needed a drink.

As I reached I noticed the black marks moving across my skin. Fuck…they were back… What the hell were they? ….ah fuck it, I desperately need drink and another bath. At least this time it was his shirt that got crap all over it. Thank god for small favors. Not to mention the black markings didn't hurt. Carefully with the broken bottle neck, I tipped the remaining yellowish liquid down my throat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vergil growled at me. Standing up I eyed him. Oh, so now it was _my_ turn huh? Yeah...sure it was...

"Fuck you," I growled back. It was too early for this kind of shit.


	47. Encephalon Dive

**Lauren**

Turning I headed to the kitchen. I want more booze and food and I'm not going to think about what I just saw. It would probably give me nightmares. The dark squiggles were still there under my skin, moving like dark worms or eels. Glancing at them I had the feeling if I concentrated long enough I'd be able to make some sense of them. Funny, they almost looked like some sort of writing or something.

"What where you doing wandering around my house?" He was still using that business maiming voice of his. Glancing up I saw Vergil was standing in the doorway, sword in hand. Oh so _now_ it was an issue that someone was wandering around in _his_ house. Yet somehow the story was different when he was doing the same to me. Jerk.

"Looking for the idiot that owns it," I snapped. I piled the ham, cheese, mustard, and mayo on to the bread slices and took a bite. I haven't had actual cheese and ham in a while. Mmm….Food….

"What did they do to you?" He demanded, coming into the kitchen. He'd be more threatening if I gave a shit. I studied him, unperturbed. I had to wonder how whatever the order had done to me would mess up his plans. Or in other words, why the hell did he care what the Order did to me? Why was it important to _him_? I stared down at my arms, they were both alive with writhing black marks. Like I had any answers. All I knew was what the Order members and that dhampire bastard Raymond had told me. That wasn't much to go on. I snorted.

"The hell if I know."

"You knew the people who gave them to you," Vergil replied mildly, setting his now black sword on the counter before leaning on it himself. His shirt was splattered with demon blood. Nice sight when I'm eating. Convenient too, now that we were focusing on what had happened to me and not what had just happened in his living room. Somehow this was all connected. I must be stupid for not being able to figure it all out. How did he know my connection with the order anyways? Aside from the obvious. He crossed his arms, waiting expectantly for my response.

"I know _of_ the people who gave me to them, not that I ever particularly enjoyed their company. The Order just comes and goes, doing what they want. Kinda like you," I retorted. He raised an eyebrow.

"Believe me, there's a vast difference between them and me," he paused for a moment, his blue demon eyes dissecting me. "You've known the Order for some time." I sighed rolling my eyes.

"What exactly do you want to know Vergil?" I asked bluntly. He was fishing, no doubt about it. I'd rather have him just flat out ask me what he wanted to know. Beating around the bush wasn't exactly his style and it sure as hell wasn't the way I did things. I guess he had the right to ask. Even though it wasn't his problem and he didn't need to come and get me in the first place. I'd have found a way out of that hell hole eventually. As a general rule I never ask for help, at least not out loud, an important side note there. Self reliance is a valuable thing. You give up that, and people start to walk all over you. It's one of those lessons I had to learn the hard way.

"Why you'd be so stupid as to not mention it," he replied coolly.

"One you're a prick so I automatically discount you from being any actual help, and two, why the hell should you care? It's not your problem."

"It is when I have to fetch you like some common errand boy," he replied easily. His regarded me coolly, not moving from where he stood. He had me there, the bastard.

"Sorry for being the weak little human," I snapped annoyed. Why the hell had he gone to get me in the first place? Especially if it was going to cost me this much grief. I mean I _know_ I had needed help, especially when they'd shown me a sliver platter full of my own flesh, but if he was going to be an asshole about it and rub it in my face…

"You should be," he replied, seriously.

"You're still a jerk," I muttered, swallowing the last bite of the sandwhich. Even if he had just bailed my ass out…three times now…if I was counting correctly...

"And you're still stubborn," he smirked now. "Tell me Lauren, how tired are you from your little excursion?" I stared at him, blinking. How did he know that? It was true, I was exhausted beyond belief. Especially now that I was full of booze and food. Funny he'd asked that, even when I had gotten up nearly an hour ago now, it had felt like I had run a 60 mile marathon. My muscles where exhausted and my head hadn't stopped pounding…not to mention the new black 'tattoos' I was sporting. He knew something. There was no way he would have mentioned it otherwise.

"You're not going to tell me what you know are you?" I asked warily. He stood and casually walked towards me.

"Perhaps, though that depends entirely on you." Easily he reached out. A familiar numbing wave rippled down my spine as he pinched the nerves at the base of my neck.

"Asshole," I grunted, trying to stay on my feet. He raised an eyebrow as I began to sway.

"You helped yourself to my jack," he replied coolly. "You should have known better." The fogginess started pervading my mind, clouding out the gnome brigade. "That aside, your body needs the rest even if you mind doesn't."

"You're still an asshole," I muttered. Vergil caught me as I finally lost my balance. My feet weren't listening to my brain anymore, thanks to him. Vergil chuckled, picking me up like I was a rag doll.

"What's wrong Lauren? Is depending on another degrading to your pride?" He asked in a mocking voice. Okay fine…so I hadn't exactly gotten around to saying 'thankyou' yet….and that wouldn't be happening anytime soon now.

"Never said I wasn't grateful you ginormous jerkwad," I mumbled. I could feel my breathing slowing. Like he was any different from me. 'Receiving help from a human is degrading,' he had said. But I had helped him with the chalice and when he'd gotten into that huge ass fight. I should point that out sometime.

"I see."A pause. "Goodnight Lauren." And like that I was out.

**Vergil**

Easily Vergil set her down on the spare bed. Like expected she was completely exhausted from her massive aura use at Silent Hill. The queen was getting too close for comfort, sending Nallius…it wouldn't be long before the she discovered Lauren's existence. He had to know if Lauren had any other living skeletons in her closet of memories. Sighing he sat down next to her on the bed. The last thing he wanted was to dive into Lauren's memories, but it couldn't be helped. If what Nallius had said was true, then something like the Order could cost him dearly at the wrong time. Not to mention Lauren would be dead either way if the Queen had her way.

Reaching for the small amulet around her neck, he fitted it into the lager amerhust half on the chain around his wrist. Had she been awake and aware, Lauren would undoubtedly be 'shoving her foot up his ass' as she frequently promised to. There was a chance she might even be aware of him with in her consciousness, it which case it would be wise to tread lightly and hope she forgot the encounter upon waking. Though he doubted such a thing would happen, and much to his annoyance she would most likely remember. She wouldn't forget. After all, Lauren was unique. At least he was not _intentionally_ invading her memories, not this time anyway, she couldn't complain too much.

He was looking for a large vacuum within Lauren's consciousness. The largest vacuum-or tangle-in her consciousness that didn't pertain to the Order would be her next skeleton. Hopefully, this skeleton would be long dead. Leaning back against the head board he closed his eyes. Given Lauren's stubborn nature, directing her consciousness would be no easy feat. Tonight would be a long night.

**Lauren**

I was dreaming…but I was aware I was dreaming. Strange don't you think? It wasn't even a dream really. It was a memory, my memory, a memory of something I purposely haven't thought of in a while. It's a hospital memory, one that's nearly three years old now. The dream itself was odd, like I was watching my life on a big screen, my life flashing before my eyes if you will. Actually that's exactly what I was doing. I was seated an empty movie theater watching my life. The chair I sat in was red and squeaked every time I shifted my weight. I suppose I've had weirder dreams. Especially since Vergil was watching my life with me. Figures the jerk would be in my dreams too. Turing I watched my memory unfold on the large screen.


	48. The End of Dog Street

**Lauren's Memories**

The cigarette was burning my fingers, but I couldn't feel it at the time. I still have the burns on my right hand from it. I had lit that cigarette with every intention of smoking it. I'd gotten a pack from one of the surgeons who had been working on Sion. A lighter too, I must've looked like I had needed it. And from my view point in the audience, I agreed with that surgeon. I looked like crap. Since I couldn't smoke them inside, I was on the hospital's roof.

I couldn't get the sound of all those machines out of my head, that sound that they make when a heart goes flat line. Like the way his heart had gone flat line. And stayed that way. The doctors and nurses couldn't stop it from collapsing any more than they'd been able to prevent that thug from shooting him point blank ten times. Greatest man I'd ever known, and he offed by a petty mugger. One day and my life had turned into a perpetual hell hole. I finally dropped the cigarette, grinding it out with my combat boot.

Kou and Volt, Echidna and Leann where comforting Tiffany and Dominique. I couldn't take their voices. I didn't want to listen to them talk and talk and talk. There was nothing they could say to make everything 'better'. That's all the doctors had done after the machines had started screaming, trying to find a way of making it better. And they failed miserably. So I went out to smoke. I took out the next cigarette from the pack, technically my first one. The first time I had lit up. I was half way through it when roof door slammed open in the wind. I stared blankly at Dominique. What was she doing up here? I watched, unmoving as she climbed onto the thick metal hand railing, somehow managing to balance in the wind. Her face was tear streaked, but she smiled at me. Like usual, the smile light up her face like a Christmas tree in the middle of winter.

"_Don't forget, I will always love you and Tiffany_," she sniffed. I stared at her, not understanding the true significance of her words. The me in the crowd still didn't understand _why_ the hell I hadn't done something. I should have known better. Sion was the entire world to Dominique. She loved us, but Sion was everything to her.

"_Dominique_?" I asked blankly.

"_I can't go on with out him_," she sniffed, another tear rolled down her cheek. It was the first and last time I'd ever seen Dominique cry. I nodded, I don't know why I did that. I guess I thought she'd have more to say. By then, the roof door had flown open. Kou and Volt were racing towards us. They were yelling something to me, but I couldn't hear them over the wind. Then it was like time slowed down. I watched as she closed her eyes and fell backwards, like an angel with out wings. I reached out, her soft red scarf ran between my fingers for a brief moment. It was the one Sion and I had picked out for her birthday. Then she was gone, over the edge and fifteen stories down. Out of my life forever. I lost two parents that day.

Shaking my head the memory stopped. I didn't want to think about this. That day had to be one of the worse ones I'd survived, and the next two years that had followed it weren't much better. Looking over I caught Vergil giving me an odd look.

"Vergil?" I asked blankly.

"Who was that?" he asked flatly. Oh no….god in fucking bleeding hell…

"You're actually here aren't you?" I asked him vacantly. He raised an eyebrow. "VERGIL YOU FUCKING **_ASSHOLE_**!" I yelled. "What the _HELL_ do you WANT?" What the _hell_ was he doing in my head?

"Who are your enemies Lauren?" he asked coolly. He even had the nerve to smirk at me, like this was some kind of amusing game. "That's what I want."

"It didn't occur to you to ask!" I yelled. The fucking nerve! If I wasn't dreaming he'd be on his ass with a broken nose right now. I didn't want him in my head looking at my memories. I didn't want him knowing what made me tick and I sure as hell didn't want him knowing about my fucking family….or what had happened to it…

"You don't have the habit of being forthcoming with personal information," He replied, still smirking slightly.

"Neither do you! So what gives you the right?" I demanded.

"I _am_ asking," he replied quietly. I ground my teeth together.

"I'm not awake and you're in my fucking head, you bastard!"

"I could always force the answer out of you," he replied coolly. Even when I was dreaming Vergil held his damning sword. Did he have any life outside of killing things for a living?

"Isn't that what you're doing?" I demanded waving a dream arm around. He began to chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, throwing an arm over the top of his neighboring chair.

"As you wish, however I would like to point out that it took me quite a bit of time to get to you in Silent Hill, my little human partner. Should you have more enemies, less leisurely acting than the Order, it would prove beneficial to know where to look should you happen to go missing again." If he wasn't the very devil himself, then he was the devil's best man, able to con even consistent Pete out of his best shoes.

"Yeah right, you're just covering your own fucking ass," I snapped. "I'm only important so long as I'm part of your plans. I've known people like you my entire life Vergil. Despite the fact that I'm human I'm not a fucking idiot you know."

"You've never known anyone like me Lauren," he replied softly, a smirk still on his face. I sighed rubbing my forehead. It figures I'd get headaches in my dreams too. This was starting to remind me of Linda in a very uncomfortable way. That asshole, now what? "If it helps, none of your memories save those that pertain to your enemies are of any interest to me."

"No it doesn't," I snapped. "You're still in my fucking head looking at my fucking memories without my goddamning permission."

"And you would have given such permission so freely?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"You just had to _ask_!"

"Really?" he asked mildly. Fine, so he was right. I still wouldn't have told him anything, even if I was awake, but that didn't mean he should've gone and done this.

"You would've had more reason for being here if you had," I snarled. Not that I had any idea as to how he'd gotten 'here' in the first place.

"Lauren, for a human with above average intelligence, you're show incredible ineptitude when actually applying it," he replied flatly. "You would never have agreed to this and you know it."

"Piss off," I growled.

"So you're willing to tell me who your enemies are?" He was laughing at me, damn him. He was right, either way you looked at it he was right. One I would never agree to this, so he was right, and two pushing him out of my head for being an asshole-assuming I could figure out how to do that-and he was still right. Meaning he'd be justified poking around in my head again, making him in the right _again_.

The motherfuckng…_jerk_…. I sighed. He had me beat at every angle, I had no option but to cave in. Or did I? Black mail was still a valid option, he wanted pieces of my life well fine, he could give up some of his in exchange for them. However, I wasn't sure how much of Vergil's life in hell I wanted to know about. I didn't need to get wrapped up in even more shit that shouldn't concern me. Linda a case in point…

"So long as you keep my life to yourself you fucking jerk," I growled. "I don't need any of your hell buddies making a swift buck off my ass. And you better not be expecting any kind of gratitude for this." Not that I even possessed a way of making him stay true to his word. Blackmail was still sounding nice…

"Believe me, very few in hell would risk the consequences of peddling your ass."

"What?" I demanded. He was doing an _extremely_ good job of pissing me off today.

"You're far too much of a thorny rose," he replied seriously. "Sure you're pretty to look at, but most demons would consider you more trouble than you're worth. I wouldn't doubt your attitude would be the reason most demons would justify out rightly murdering you."

"Nice to know," I replied sarcastically. He didn't answer, which was a good thing, because I might have decked him. Several times. Or at least died trying. "_Her_," I nodded to the giant screen as I thought of Linda's real face. It was her feyish face, so there was no way in hell he _wouldn't_ be able to see her for what she really was. Even if she wore glamour. Knowing a fey's true face is a powerful thing. "She's the only one who wants me dead aside from the Order."

"The darkling fey court's exiled princess?" Vergil glanced at me with a dead expression.

"You're the one that asked," I replied flatly. He snorted lightly a smirk on his face.

"When you make enemies Lauren-"

"You have no right to speak," I growled. I'd already seen some of _his_ enemies. "Now what?"  
"Wake up," he replied simply. And blinking, I found myself awake lying in the spare bed I had woken up in before. Vergil was sitting next to me, waiting expectantly. Sighing I sat up. At least my headache was gone. Apparently I had been sleeping for a while now, it was a full moon outside.

"That wasn't too painful was it?" he asked mildly. Grinding my teeth together I lashed out with a fist that made solid connection with his jaw. The fucking asshole earned it. Getting off the bed I stalked over to the bathroom. I needed a goddamning shower, I was still covered in fucking demon's blood. God Vergil you _fucking_ asshole.

**Vergil**

He felt a smirk growing on his mouth as he watched her stalk away. His jaw still stung slightly where she'd hit him, much to her credit. No doubt she believed he had earned that. Little Lauren knew a lot more than she let on, her memories had proven informational. He'd gotten a certain sense of pain when she had remembered the dark fey princess, who currently maintained possession of the last of the three artifacts. It would be interesting to see how it would all play out. Assuming Lauren didn't try to hit him again, though he doubted crushing Lauren's spirit would have any positive effects.

He'd been entirely serious when he'd said most demons would have killed her by now. Spirit in a human was seen as either entertainment or annoyance, an attitude reflected by the vampires, the fey courts, _and_ the angels. If rumors were true. He be a fool _not_ to believe that Lauren had suffered at the hands of the Darkling princess. Amazing really that he understood her motives for a change. It explained why she preferred to be called Lor. The naive girl, she must have given her real name to the fey so they could summon her as they wished. A desperate move, Lauren must have desired something pretty badly to make a deal like that with the Fey.

As interesting as the future promised to be, watching her storm away was far more amusing. She'd get over it. Hopefully. Perhaps, given time, she'd be more forthcoming than she was currently or perhaps she'd become more stubborn, as impossible as that seemed. In any case, she needed something to control the scrolling. It would buy him some time and Lauren some cover from the Queen's watchful eyes and ears while he retrieved the heart. The drop of undrinkable blood, the first, only and last drop of blood that had fallen from god's own flesh, it looked like _they_ were going treasure hunting. She'd be sure to love that. Assuming she knew anything about fighting and demons, which she did if he recalled correctly.

It was almost worth putting up with her, he hadn't had this much fun baiting an individual in years. Still smirking Vergil stood and left the room. He knew Lauren well enough by now to be gone when she chose to resurface from the bathroom.


	49. Beer Buddies

**Beer Buddies **

"So what's this little group meeting about?" Lucia looked at the faces around her. They were all here the dhampire, the human and her angel, Dante and Trish, several days latter. "I mean, what exactly is Vergil doing? What makes his little bitch so important? And why is it important enough to wake me up at midnight to tell me?" It was an understatement to say Lucia had enjoyed killing the demons more than she had cleaning their splatterd guts up. She just needed to sleep it off, was that too much to ask? Happy hour had sounded like a good idea, a celebration for the final clean up of DNC, until she had gotten into a beer battle with Dante and Rayne…nearly three days ago now, if her pounding head still had enough brain cells left to calculate with.

"Can we say hangover?" Trish smirked. Lucia gave her the finger.

"Well, _that bitch_, happens to be the key to the scion," Tiffany began. "You'll just have to make use with what you were given." Lucia rolled her eyes.

"That light weight couldn't knock down a feather on a windy day."

"Threaten her well being and she'll knock you flat on your ass," Tiffany replied coldly. "She'd defend herself against even me, and I'm her family. Lauren doesn't take abuse from anyone." Lucia snorted. "Not anymore anyways," Tiffany added after a moment of consideration.

"She doesn't seem that threatening, you have to admit," Trish remarked skeptically.

"Patience Trish, you'll have your chance," Dante replied dryly as he walked into the room. He was late, like usual. He saluted Lucia with the beer bottle in his hand. Lucia glared at him, but didn't flip him off as she had Trish. She was still too hung over to deal with the consequences.

"Pleasant, she hasn't even come back yet and you're all already plotting," Josh shook his head. "Lor shouldn't be too bad off from the Order, nothing seems to faze her any more. However, her own aura could now throw the balance of the Scion off. That might be what the Order had intended when they captured her in the first place. It's certainly going to make her role of protector to the Scion a little bit more difficult." And the Grand Master is going to have one hell of a time when he realizes he can't manipulate Lor the way he thinks he can, Josh thought smugly.

"Fine, she's a key, whatever. Now why should I care about what Vergil is doing?" Lucia asked dryly. She rubbed her temples, the dancing squirrels had just taken up playing volleyball. Not to mention they had bad aim and a spiked metal ball.

"My guess would be that he's searching for the undrinkable blood of god," Rayne purred from her darkened corner. "He has the key with him, and the key isn't the key without some measure of control."

"Lor has to have some kind of control if she's with Vergil," Dante replied carelessly. _Vergil what the hell are you doing with her?_ Dante had a few ideas of what his brother might be doing with Lauren, but they were of course…just speculations… Why the hell wasn't Lor dead yet? By all means, she could be dead now, seeing as she clearly had what Vergil wanted. And it was within his reach, within that aura of her's. And if anyone would know how to get it out of her, it would be him So why was he keeping Lor alive longer than he usually would? The Vergil Dante had last known wouldn't have hesitated to kill Lor the minute he'd gotten what he'd wanted. And yet the girl was still alive. Interesting…

"How exactly did you come to know this?" Trish asked mildly annoyed. Rayne smiled slyly at her.

"Something I picked up a while back."

"Spare me the details," Trish muttered. There was something about this, something she was pretty certain Vergil would never admit to. Hell Dante himself would never admit such a thing were he in Vergil's shoes. _If_ Trish was right …and she had a feeling she was. But Vergil wasn't her concern, Dante was and what Dante did concerned her, but Vergil wasn't her concern.

"Oh that's reassuring," Tiffany replied dryly.

"You should be happy she's alive at all," Trish told her dryly, wrinkling her nose. "Vergil doesn't exactly…_like_…humans."

"Even better," Tiffany retorted.

"Are we done yet?" Lucia asked miserably.

"What's wrong sweet blood, got yourself a headache?" Rayne cooed, her red mouth upturned in a mocking smile.

"Shut up," Lucia glared at Dante and Rayne. "I have a head ache." That cracked everyone up. The bastards. Lucia stomped upstairs, careful of the broken one as she made her get away. She was getting sick of the dhampire's condensending smirks…


	50. The Go To Guy

Oh look, Lauren and Vergil have reached a consensus...of sorts. XD This is another lengthy chapter, another caser of two chapters that couldn't handle standing alone on their own, soI had to meld them together. Anyways, Enjoy!

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**Two weeks latter…**

I wasn't speaking to him. Which just made him laugh, the jerk. Usually I would be mature and continue not to talk to him until I got an apology. But I knew that would never happen for several reasons:

One: I'd never get an apology from him unless I beat him with in an inch of his life using a nail studded baseball bat, and even when I tried that he brushed it off like it was nothing.

Two: after he brushed it off he got me to scream bloody hell and heaven by groping me…again….at which point I attempted to kill him…again…

Three: he made a point of reminding me how he'd made me squeal like a pig instead remaining silent likeI sworeI'd doevery chance he got, or so it seemed. He gets a freaking kick out of baiting me, and I _know_ it. And I know he knows it, and that just makes him laugh at me more...The prick.

There is no escaping it. I almost _wished_ someone would send an assassination attempt. I'd at least be able to get into a physical fight I'd have a hell of a chance of _winning_. Last time I'd tried to hit Vergil he'd nearly broken my leg. I'm still limping. Yet there is an upside to trying to maim Vergil. It takes my mind of the dark squiggles in my arms that showed up every so often. And I'd so much rather try to smack him a good one than not talk to him. I think Vergil gets a kick out it too, he enjoys flipping my ass into the ground way too much not to. It was 64 to zip so far, but I was learning. Even though he'd just bodily flipped me onto the ground again, making it 65-0. My breath was actually knocked out of me that time. I'd be sporting bruises latter. Vergil stared down at me, arms crossed, smirking.

"Pathetic Lauren, you didn't even reach the half minute mark this time."

"I'm getting more clothing," I snapped, not bothering to get up. It was the reason we'd started fighting in the first place. This time around anyways.

"And how do you propose getting to the door?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your skills seem to be lacking today." I stared at him flatly. He said if I could get to the front door I'd be able to go home and get more clothing. The lazy butthead refused to get it for me and wouldn't let me leave till he was sure I could take him. The logic behind that being if I could take _him_ on, any other demons would be mince meat.

_Logically_ speaking of course, the jerk. I had been in the spare bedroom and I'd made it as far as the hallway. Only three more rooms left till the front door. I didn't doubt each successive room would deal me enough damage to render walking pretty useless. I growled, winded. I really want to wipe that smirk off his face.

"How's this," he continued, still smirking, "you land a blow and _I'll_ get whatever you want." I raised an eyebrow. That was cocky, it wasn't like I'd never landed a blow before. Granted they were few and far apart and usually at the beginning of a match. Still….I wanted my own freaking clothes. Anything in my size would do. It was worth getting hospitalized over. That and a pack of cigarettes would be nice. Withdraw was a bitch.

"A single blow?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"A single blow Lauren," he replied smirking, yanking me to my feet easily. Dammit, I didn't need his help getting up. I jerked my arm out of his grasp. Still smirking he backed off a couple of paces.

"_Anything_ I want?" I asked.

"Anything." Now I'm tempted.

"Good, just wanted to clarify that." Reeling I tried a roundhouse, he caught my foot easily. I knew from personal experience that he could simply turn and throw me over his shoulder and into a wall easily. Hell that's what I was hoping for.

"Ready for a flying lesson?" he smirked at me. Oh he was cocky. …I probably be too if I had creamed my ass so many times. Still, if a blind dog doesn't bite that doesn't mean it doesn't know how. Here's hoping my head really is as hard as Vergil believes it is.

"Shove it," I growled. Chuckling, Vergil turned. Whiplash is a very nasty thing, or soI've discovered. Flying, I curled up, minimizing the damage as I hit the far wall and slid to the floor. Oh…my back…owie…. Still chuckling the jerk casually walked over to me as I struggled to stand up strait. Staggering I took up a defensive stance.

"Begging for more?" Vergil asked, amused.

"I ain't fucking dead yet," I growled. Beg this you jerk. I knew he'd see the right hook. Turning, my arm somehow found it's way to my back along with the rest of Vergil. With a simple twist of my wrist he made me gasp in pain.

"Had enough?" Vergil asked quietly in my ear. His breath was warm against my skin. Laugh it up demon-boy.

"Not until I've got some of my own fucking clothes," I snapped, grinding my teeth against the pain. There had to be a way out of this. I dropped to the floor, ignoring the screaming pain in my wrist as I lashed out backwards with a bare heel. By then Vergil had released my wrist and was long gone. I just can't seem to move fast enough to keep up with him. Shit…he was right freaking in front of me now… Rising I brought my right foot forward, it missed Vergil of course who just sidestepped out of the way, but Kou would've been proud of me. My legs were separated at a 180 degree angle as the bottom of my foot nearly brushed the ceiling. I wonder if that's going to hurt tomorrow…

"Impressive, but useless," Vergil commented, raising an eyebrow. He took a step forward. I let my heel drop, which he avoided. He was reaching for my arm again as I let the momentum from the kick spin my around. The momentum allowed me a single second to firmly place my heel into Vergil's thigh. Any normal person would have gotten a serious dead leg from it, but not Vergil. Oh no, not mr. halfdemon-pain-in-my-ass. He was barely fazed by it. And by then he had a solid hand to the back of my neck, still pulling. Off balance I stumbled, until Vergil pulled me up using the base of my neck. I knew better than to try and struggle free by now. He could snap my neck like a twig.

"I got you," I said blankly, wincing. _Holy Christ it actually worked_. I hadn't thought I'd be able to land that move. Vergil sighed.

"At the possible expense of your own life," he commented dryly. "I would expect better of you than that."

"So?" I demanded. "I still hit you. You get to be my personal go to guy for a day." Ah sweet victory. I could feel a huge smile sweeping across my face. "I actually freaking hit you." I started laughing. "We're like 65 to 1 now."

"Brainless." Vergil released my neck.

"I still won," I replied, stumbling off balance till I fell on my butt. I stared up at him, still chuckling. Damn…my back freaking hurts.

"You opened your defense for a killing blow by the enemy while barely nicking me. Were I a demon you'd be dead." Technically he's right, but I think I'll choose to ignore that for now.

"But I won," I smirked. Roughly he pulled me up, giving me a look that said 'idiot'. The back blazed with pain as I got to my feet. Hopefully I'd feel better when I was smoking a sweet tar flavored ciggy. "So about the bet," I started smirking. "I want my own clothes and now I also want a pack of cigarettes."

"Cigarettes?" he asked mildly, a twitch to his voice. He gave me the 'dead human' stare. I ignored it.

"Cigarettes," I agreed smirking. "And clothes, my own clothes. Clothes that fit and don't smell like demon blood." Or hospitals, among other things. And you know, I'm pretty sure he'd get me my cigarettes and my clothes. If there was an upside to Vergil, it was that he always was good for his word. Other than his smooth driving it was something I could respect. Heeheehee…I'm getting cigarettes…it's enough to make me want to kiss Disneyland animals.

"Your own clothes?" he asked. A smirk flit across his face. "In that case, I think it would be in my best interest to reclaim _my_ clothing." Easily he reached out and drew me close, squishing my arms as I tried to push him away again. Oh shit…if there was a down side to Vergil, it was that he was always good for his word. Dammit, I was wearing his shirt, the one he'd soaked with panther demon blood. Easily the hem of the shirt began to ride up under his hands. For a fraction of a second, I felt his fingertips hot and warm against my skin, and inch above my jean waist line. He was standing so close…. Ack! Damn hormones, stay the hell out of this! The asshole is trying to undress me!

"Dammit, you're just pissed because I won!" I snapped, finally pushing myself away. I got as far as spinning around as he casually reached out and took hold of the back of the shirt. I wasn't expecting that. And graceful as I am, I tripped. Gravity pulled down, Vergil held still smirking the whole damning time, and then the back of the shirt was kaput. Wonderful, 66 to 1. Victory goes to Vergil by klutziness, just freaking peachy.

"Oww," I groaned, climbing to my feet. "What the hell Vergil?" I started to ease myself to my feet, holding what remained of the shirt in place. It was falling down around my shoulders now. Wonderful….

"Hold still," Vergil said quietly, coldly. I froze, listening. It wasn't uncommon for demons to randomly pop up from time to time. I stopped counting how many he killed a while ago. I also knew by now that it was useless to ask him about it. Last time I had asked was the time he'd nearly broken my leg.

"What?" I asked after few minutes. I didn't hear anything. Vergil said nothing, but pulled the shirt halves apart delicately. What the hell? Looking over my shoulder I watched as Vergil gently touched my back, intent on something. It felt like someone was running the tip of a feather down my spine. Bleeding hell… I faced him annoyed. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" I snapped.

"Are you aware of the significance of the Seal of Solomon?" Vergil asked, drawing back.

"What?" I asked blankly. The Seal of Solomon…why did that sound familiar? "What are you talking about?" Vergil glanced at me but said nothing. I sighed. "What the hell is it?" He leaned back a little crossing his arms, briefly closing his eyes. He better not be coy with details again or I'd knee kick the information out of him.

"The seal of Solomon is a circular spell of protection when drawn in red," Vergil replied quietly. "However, drawn in blue it summons…things."

"A protection spell?" I asked. "A summons?" I snorted crossing my arms. "What does that have to do with you being a pervert?"

"I wouldn't flatter myself Lauren," Vergil replied dryly.

"And nothing stops you from being a complete asshole," I added cheerily. Victory was still mine however tarnished it was. He was still my personal go to guy for the day. "What about the seal of Solomon?" And why are you telling me about something this boring?

"Red is the better color in the case of the Seal of Solomon, wouldn't you agree?"

"Fine, red protects things, whatever. Why should I care?"

"There's a red one tattooed on your back." I gaped at him. Did he just say _tattooed_?

"I have a tattoo?" I asked vacantly. Of a seal of protection that summons evil things if it turns blue. …I have a tattoo…

"The seal can be a very powerful defense against those of hell." At least it was red…and I was getting cigarettes today.

"I have a demon replant tattoo?" I asked. The Order…they gave me a demon repelling tattoo? One had to wonder why it didn't work on Vergil. Still, that would explain why my back hurt like a mother for the longest time. And why I was currently going to be spending the rest of the day soaking in cold water if I had my way. Still...that could pretty..._useful_...

"Get cleaned Lauren. I'll return with your things shortly. There may be something you can do about this." And there went the final seconds on my minute of gloating. I think he did that on purpose.

"Like what the hell can I do about it?" I snorted. Hmmm…a tattoo for free. I hope it looks decent enough. "They put red ink under my skin. Not like it's going to wash off." Vergil smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Would you care to have me look for more red ink under your skin?"

"Perv," I muttered dryly, limping into the bathroom. Why the hell would the order give me protection? It didn't make any sense...especially since they were the ones that usually sent the demons after me. There was something to this...collecting those three artifacts, the Order suddenly coming to find me after roughly five years of peace, now this tattoo. What the hell was going on? I certainly hope, whatever it is Vergil thinks he's doing, that he's worth my trust. I'd hate to have to kill him, or die trying as the case might be. Especially now that I'm starting to understand him a little better.

**An Hour Latter...**

"Here," he threw a wrapped bundle of clothes at me, nailing me in the face. "You're not winning a bet that way again," He added growling. Warning me really. I smiled at him sweetly, which he glared at me for. He'd gotten a pair of jeans with major belt issues running up and down the legs, a red leather halter, and my blue sparkle shoes. My poor combat boots, may they rest in rubbery pieces.

"Alright, not bad for guy, Vergil," I told him. "I was afraid you'd pick out something dorky looking." Vergil continued to glare at me. I ignored his look and fawned over my clothes. I know _that_ annoyed him, especially when his hand hesitated by his sword hilt for a moment. However, I think I may have actually giggled at one point, completely ruining my gloating credentials. "Now all I need is some cigarettes," I looked to him sweetly. Vergil rubbed his face in annoyance before stalking into the living room, throwing a small carton over his shoulder. Ah the spoils of victory…sweet cancer giving love sticks…you're all _mine_. Mwaaahahaa! I followed him into the living room lighting up with my lucky strike lighter. I'm sure he's loving me right now.

"I see you're back to what passes as normal for you. Get dressed, Lauren," Vergil sighed, sinking into a chair, "We're going on a trip today." No way getting my clothes was that taxing. Drama Demon. I shrugged and headed to the bathroom. I was dressed and ready to go in five minutes. It's so nice to actually wear clothing that fits. Not to mention I'd probably have an easier time maiming Vergil now, should the need arise.

"Are you ready yet?" He called, annoyed. He's still pissed I won the bet.

"Yup," I entered the room. "Where we going anyways?" Vergil looked at me blankly.

"How much do you know about demons Lauren?" I raised an eyebrow. That wasn't a good sign.

"Some," I shrugged, excluding the littleI knew about Vergil himself. I wonder if he'd believe me ifI saidI had once trained under a demon slayer. Probably not. I exhaled a toxic cloud. Oh…my precious cigarettes. "Why?"

"I thought as much."

"Where are we going Vergil?" I asked flatly. If this was another Cerberious type thing… He smirked, standing up. Easily Yamoto found it's way back into his hands.

"Treasure hunting."

…I should have known he'd make me pay for winning like that.


	51. Nallius 2

Sorry for the slowing updates, but i'm nearing finals. Expect delays, and try not to get too annoyed with me. I'll try to keep them coming at a steady pace, but definately a _slower_ pace. That being said, make like a moogle and Enjoy!

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**Lauren**

We were treasure hunting on a lonely beach miles from any recognizable civilization. And I was out of cigarettes…already. We'd arrived a minute ago after Vergil had driven like a bat out hell. Why am I not surprised? And wouldn't you know it, the demons had already rolled out the red carpet for him. Turning I drew a marionette face first into my knee before kicking it away. Stumbling, the last demon turned to ash.

"Finished yet Lauren?" Vergil asked, bored. I made a face at him.

"Some of us don't have a sword to hack things apart with," I snapped. He didn't bother replying as he turned and began the trek to the small rocky peninsula. I swear to god, Vergil is the scariest sword wielding half demon I've ever had to the misfortune of meeting. He did this thing with his aura, creating copies of his sword out of nothing but spare energy and sent them hurtling into the marionettes. It was interesting to watch, but he nearly nailed me with one when a marionette kinda…threw me into him… I think he was still a little annoyed about that.

"Why are we here again? What exactly does this treasure look like?" I asked staring at the peninsula and the sweeping beach around us. Vergil ignored me, not bothering to wait up. Figures. I wonder if we're looking for the next artifact… I felt a familiar warm tingling begin to throb over my heart. Looking down I saw my half of the Amerhusrt reacting again. It was glowing the same yellowish color that it had before, not to mention the black squiggles were coming to life.

"Vergil, what the hell are we looking for?" I asked holding up my arms. The markings were moving faster than I've ever seen them move before. Like they were excited or something. He turned, raising an eyebrow, studying me.

"Yes?" he asked, uninterested.

"What the hell are they?" I asked flatly, holding up both arms. He stared me strait in the eye, smirking. I knew before he even said anything that whatever he was going to say would be said with the single intent of annoying me. He was going to brush me off like a stupid inferior nobody...again. Knowing that in advance only pissed me off more.

"It means you're a fallen angel." I snorted, rolling my eyes. Seriously, that's the best BS he could come up with? He's losing his touch.

"You're an asshole," I grumbled. I could already hear the silent laughter in his voice when he spoke again, his demon eyes were laughing as well.

"As you wish Lauren."

"You seriously think that's amusing don't you?" I snapped, pushing past him. It wasn't _his_ arms that were covered with these freaking things. Hell it wasn't even his _body_ covered with these freaky things.

"Why would I know what they are Lauren?" he asked mildly. "I didn't give them to you." Yeah the hell he didn't, he knew something. He always knows something. Hell, Vergil makes it a point to understand what's going on. I've completely had it with this secrecy shit. I want these black marks gone. The tattoo I can live with, I think it looks freaking badass, but these living marks have got to go. _Now_. And if Vergil has answers and I want them.

"It's not funny," I growled, spinning around to face him. "These things are weird and I didn't ask for them. I have no freaking idea what they are. You being a jerk isn't helping."

"Does little Lauren need another nap?" he asked coolly, smirking. He would do it too, the asshole.

"Does Vergil want human _Lor_ to kick his ass?" I snapped. "I'm serious. You know what the hell these things are, so spill."

"You really want to know?" Vergil asked, taking a couple of steps forward to close the distance between us. The last time he was this close a spider demon was staring me in the eye and drooling. He's trying to intimidate me the jerk. I glared at him defiantly. I'm not moving a freaking inch till he tells me what the hell these things are.

"Don't be an ass," I snapped tersely.

"Patience is a virtue Lauren."

"Something _you_ should try to remember from time to time," I replied, snorting.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he replied quietly. I stared at him, feeling his aura expand in a very scary way. It literally crashed around me like a tidal wave. His eyes were a cold blue. Cute. If he thought something like that was going to faze me, he was in for a rude awakening call. Using an aura and green stars were the first things I'd pried out of Verigl during our 67 matches. However, I could feel my heartbeat in the soles of my feet again. Damn him.

Reaching forward with out warning Vergil threw me to the sandy ground, unsheathing Yamoto in the process. Pain shot up my right arm as I tried to catch myself. A second and I was sprawled out flat on my ass, nice. Groaning I raised my head off the beach, trying to blink away the dancing black spots in my left eye. After my vision cleared, I recognized a familiar looking ax embedded in the rock I had been standing on a moment before. …oh, okay…nice to know the sword wasn't for me.

"Nallius," Vergil growled. Standing before us on the rock peninsula was the cat demonness from before. At her side were two more shadow panthers.

"By Order of the Queen you are sentenced to death," Nallius raised her chin proudly, a cold angry fire blazing in her eyes. "Should you return to her willingly, however, the death sentence will be lifted, Nero." Vergil has _no_ tact what-so-ever. Grunting, I got to my feet, my head spinning a little. Leave it to him to nearly knock me out while moving me the space of two feet.

"Very well," Vergil replied coldly, "A convenience for you then, to come seek vengeance on your fallen comrades." He glanced at me over his shoulder. "Move it Lauren." He was telling me to get lost while he diced it up with catwoman? "Now," He said coldly when I didn't move. Jesus, where his eyes red? What the hell did that mean? I suppressed a shudder. Now that was scary, I can't believe I'd almost forgotten about Vergil's demon half. His demon side coming out to play? Hmm…I wonder if I could get him to do the eye thing by smoking around him. Either way I'm sure as hell not going to listening to him. As much as it pains me to say it, I can't fight shadow demons like he can. Therefore the weasel survivalist in me has decided its in my best intrest to stay planted where I am. I don't care what color his eyes change. Besides I distinctly heard a nice cracking sound as my right arm hit the ground, which would explain why I can't move it.

"Where to?" I demanded annoyed. "The rocks to the left or the sand to the right?"

"Stupid woman," he growled, nearly inaudibly. By then the shadow panthers where circling us. They were looking at me like I was dinner. What was I going to do when they decided it was time to eat?

"You broke my arm you asshole," I growled back. I turned to watch the panthers circling us. I don't like this.

"I demand blood for my comrades Nero," Nallius growled. "I don't want your pathetic human, you were correct, she's not my concern. You are." Her eyes were sly as she eyed the Halfling. "I have something you want, if a simple battle isn't enough to entice your participation." Delicately entwined in her right hand the blood of god stood out, a red drop of crystal ruby, against her dark fur.

"You would waist your life in such a fashion Nallius?" Vergil asked. He was using the pissed business tone again.

"Should I return with out you or your head, it was made clear to me my comrades will die slow deaths for my failure." Wow, now that was one hell of an ultimatum. Thank god I'm not standing in her shoes. Go figure, another woman Vergil's pissed off…I think the tally is up to four now, but I'm sure there's more I don't know about.

"I don't suppose you'd mind getting me some cigarettes after this, would you?" I asked Vergil. He was my go to guy for the day still, after all. He stared at me, red eyes, aura crackling. Eh, it was worth a shot. I shrugged, "I'm addicted." Nallius was staring at me now too, with unreadable eyes, studying me. After a moment she returned her attention back to Vergil. Vergil however, continued to give me the death glare. He knew I was doing this on purpose. It's rare that I get a blatant chance to piss Vergil off. I decided to push my luck and smile back at him sweetly, gritting my teeth together as my arm began to throb on a whole new level of pain.

"Is she what I think she is?" Nallius asked.

"She's nothing more than what you see," Vergil growled, finally turning to Nallius. I felt he muscles twitch under my left eye.

"Not like I'm standing right here or anything," I muttered. Both the demons decided to ignore me. The inferiority complex strikes again.

"I see," she said quietly, "you have my deepest apologizes Nero." With a lithe flick of her wrist she flung the ruby she was holding, Vergil's 'treasure' I realized, at me. I could feel something then, the final seconds I remember before passing out, an overwhelming sense of dread…and this unbelievable sense of…_power_. Like with the snap of my fingers I could topple cities, governments, nations, continents….worlds even. Then the ocean was roaring in my ears and the world was tipping and sliding as the amerhurst flared to life with scorching heat. I was a phoenix, burning with something I couldn't see and didn't dare touch. Through the burning sensation that was quickly driving me into blackness, I could feel my arm bones healing, stitching together again. Oh…so _that's_ what it was…

**Vergil**

He could do nothing as the Blood of God reacted with Lauren, suppressing the demonic and angel influences alike within her aura as the small ruby joined with the amerhurst's central yellow crystal. Melding the two gems created something that hadn't existed for time out of mind. Something Sparda had foreseen the coming of. How had Nallius known? Silently, Lauren fell to the ground, the angelic scrolling vanishing from her skin. Her aura was that of a mere human's once again. The only thing that remained hinting to her nature was the seal of protection. Cautiously the panther demons approached Lauren, sniffing before backing up. They too knew she was some thing more.

"Your human," Nallius whispered quietly, "is no human." The demonness turned to him then, a grudging smirk rising to her face. "Did god listen to those such as I, he would hear a first prayer pass these lips."

"Spare me, Nallius," Vergil replied quietly, a deadly glint in his eyes. "What are your actions now?" On one knee Nallius knelt before him.

"You have my silence Nero, and my alliance, should you have need of it."

"No," he considered for a moment. "I've never required the help of Vali's dogs." At this Nallius only winced, but she remained kneeling. "Your silence on what you've just witness however, is mine till the last day you breath."

"A deal then General Nero," Nallius rose. The hidden barb in her words evident. She was reminding him, that he too was one of the queen's dogs. "Make no mistake, I will have blood for those of my comrades you've slain as well as those you kill by your refusal to come back in my company. However, I am more patient. Take your human, I wish you well in concealing her."

"Leave Nallius," Vergil replied wryly. "Or you will lose more of your comrades than is necessary." With a curt bow of the head, the other left, stepping through the barrier rip easily, her precious demonic offspring in tow. Nallius would return to the underworld now, he knew, only to have those she cherished so much destroyed before her eyes. Hope could kill a demon, or drive it mad as the queen was likely to do in Nallius's case. It was something he had never seen, a demon reacting so strongly…he'd half expected Nallius to attack while the blood and amerhurst melded. Yet she hadn't. He sighed then, turning to Lauren. The blood of god had done her wonders, already she was stirring. He knelt beside her. Groaning she opened her eyes.

"Enjoy your nap? Is it too much to ask that you're not quite as stubborn or as useless as before you slept?" She made a face as she pushed her self up.

"That was the weirdest green star I've ever seen," she grumbled. Rubbing her left arm, she slowly stretched it. "What is it with you demons? Every time you try to help someone you knock the shit out of them."

"Really? Perhaps it would occur to you to wonder why," he asked dryly. Annoyed she socked him, pulling him from his thoughts.

"You broke my arm you jerk."

"Do you want me to break the other one?" he offered, rising to his feet. There were times when Lauren ceased being amusing. They weren't often, but there were times. Like now for instance…

"Hey what happened to Nallius? Where'd she go?"

"It's none of your concern," he replied, yanking the girl to her feet. He'd broken her arm? …Humans broke so easily it was absurd.

"I can stand up on my own, thankyouverymuch," she snapped, facing him. She studied him with worried eyes, though her stance and face gave no hint to her fears. He also knew she was exhausted again. The crystallized blood droplet would have expended any extra energy her aura had managed to gain in the last weeks. "You didn't kill her did you?" Fortunately, Lauren went from annoying to amusing as quickly as the wind shifting on a gusty day. Though the thought of Nallius, kneeling before a half demon she had sworn to the queen of hell she would kill was…unbelievable. Even if he had just witnessed it. Hell's high ranking generals did not sway alliances so easily. He had to wonder if Nallius's fate was worse off now than what she might have faced at the edge of his sword.

"For an angel Lauren, you have very little faith in me," he remarked, a smirk finding it's way to his lips. Baiting Lauren was starting to become second nature. He began to head back to the parked bike.

"You jerk! Dammit don't you ever listen? My name is Lor! And I'm not a fucking angel!" Lauren yelled. If she didn't believe him when he told the truth, how would she know when he told a lie? Perhaps that was something he could use to his advantage in the future.


	52. The Return part 2

**Vergil**

He was annoyed and surprised and he didn't like the sensation of either emotion as they mingled together. The feeling of uncertainty they gave him was disconcerting, as uncertainty was not an emotion he could afford right now. The girl had been quiet for the most part of the ride, something he hadn't been counting on, given her curious nature. No doubt, after Nallius returned it would become an all or nothing game of keeps. He couldn't afford to play that kind of deadly game, not yet, there was a time and place for everything. Latter rather than soon was preferable if his hand was to be forced.

So that black bitch Vali wanted him or his head, did she? Despite his ire, she would get what she wanted, assuming one was still attached to the other. He'd done to Lauren what was needed, for now. He had to go back, Vali would continue send her lackeys until either he or Lauren were dead. Meaning Lauren wouldn't be safe on her own. Nor would she be safe in hell. In any case, he doubted she could handle the things that lived in hell. Not even with what the Order had exposed her to. Lauren was still human, after all. She was useless to him if she took leave of her sanity.

…Dante…She could always learn how to better fight demons, hell knew her skills were somewhat lacking. It would keep her busy enough for the time being. Then she was going to learn how to control that aura of hers. It was nearly impossible to be this close and not have her scent mingling with every breath. He'd be a fool to assume she would know what to do in hell simply because she had been around the Order during her younger life. Or that what she carried within her would in some way help the situation. Stupid girl…he was starting to wonder if she wasn't completely useless for the time being.

Vergil pushed the bike faster, weaving around the turns and other vehicles. The girl tightened her grip, he could feel her hands lock around his waist and her small body pulled up against his back. He could even feel her shivering vaguely, her head resting slightly below his left shoulder. She had better not be falling asleep or he'd drop her here and let her walk home. Stupid, pain in the ass girl….he'd really broken her arm that easily?

**Lauren**

We pulled up to the front of a shop on the wrong side of the tracks latter that after noon. Finally back in the city where I belong. Hell, the crime in this neighbor hood was the worse in the entire city. And we were ten blocks from my house, imagine that. The place we stopped at was a two story building named 'Devil Never Cry.' The outside had an old school feel to it. What in hell? Where had Vergil dragged me to now? Hopefully it wasn't a demonic bar or something.

"Let's go," Vergil put the kickstand down and got off the bike. He casually walked up to the front door and let himself in. Mr. conversation with the details. What is this place?

"Well look who decided to show up," a voice greeted us quietly. It was Trish, sitting on a desk top, painting her nails. I would almost go as far as to say she'd been waiting for us. She was dressed in low rise jeans and a lace up corset top that was very Hot Topic. Now there's a fashion statement I could relate to, it's all about having the kick ass look sometimes, you know? She studied me with her clear sky blue eyes. "Nice to see you again Lor." Why did she look so surprised?

"Hi, Trish," I replied blanking, blinking. What was Trish doing here? Wait a minute… "You live here?" She smiled, her eyes twinkling, and nodded, blowing on her nails. She was painting them blood red. That's when I noticed, over her should, demon heads, literally speared into the far wall. Whoa. I didn't even know that many different kinds of lower class demons existed… talk about unusual interior decorating.

"You recognize some of them?" She asked, glancing to the wall over her shoulder.

"Just a few," I replied faintly. Jesus...well I guess I know what Dante and Trish do for a living. Explained why they were always lugging around huge ass swords of doom, especially if Dnate and Trish were professional demon slayers. Huh…they'd be the second pair of demon slayers I'd ever known.

"_You're_ back? You look like an anorexic cheerleader," Lucia was coming down from the second story into the room. Well, I'm glad she noticed I'd lost weight while being tortured and malnourished at Silent Hill. What a bitch. I snorted and rolled my eyes. I really don't want to listen to her shoot her mouth off today. I'm getting sick of the verbal abuse.

"Would you like something to eat?" Trish asked as she took my messenger bag and threw it on the big wooden desk in the center of the room. Trish looked over my head to Vergil, "Dante's out back." Without a word, Vergil pushed past us, heading to where ever Dante was. A dollar said he was still pissed that I won the bet.

"You have food?" I asked faintly. My stomach growled. I don't know why, but I so hungry now. I could a pig whole and squealing. I usually don't eat like this, but lately it seems I've been shoving every scape of food I could get my hands on into my pie hole. Trish chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't we? Come, let's get you something to eat." Trish is officially my hero. I need to get her a pin on button or something. I followed her into the worn looking kitchen.

"Here," Trish handed me a bucket of left over KFC after rummaging around the fridge for a minute or so. Oh there's a biscuit left over….sweet bun goodness…and chicken. "Table's over there. Take as much time as you need, Lor," Trish nodded to me. I'm not even listening to her, I'm already up to my ears in greasy chicken bones. Still a part of me wonders how much Dante told her about Silent Hill and whether she's being kind to me because of that. I don't want her pity. I'm too hungry for it.

**Trish and Lucia**

"Can you believe her aura?" Lucia asked Trish. She was waiting for Trish, sitting on the stairs that led to the second story, her face a little paler than it had been a moment before. "That's not normal. No human should have an aura like that." Trish knew what she was speaking about, and she had been warned about it before hand by Dante. Still, the feel of it had put her nerves on end, not that she'd admit it. Especially not to Lucia.

"She seems normal enough, aura aside. I don't think Vergil would've brought her here if she was a threat." Trish hung Lor's bag on the coat hanger next to Dante's jacket. It smelled like…saltwater? And sand? …huh, so that's what the cause of it was…

"You don't?" Lucia stared at Trish. "You seriously think he even cares how she acts? You know he's just using her."

"Is he?" Trish tipped her head back and leaned on Dante's desk. "Perhaps, maybe not." She thought about the smelly bag she had just hung up. "Either way, if she was a threat, he'd have killed her himself by now." Lucia looked to her, not surprised but silently willing Trish to finish her thoughts. Trish stared back with a steady gaze. "Vergil values his life and his plans and little else," she shrugged. "If she was a threat to either him or his plans he would either kill her or contain her somehow. As it is, he seems to want to contain her."

"So I've noticed," Lucia muttered. She stood up, sighing. "You'd better call that woman and the angel. They'll want to know she's back and alright."

"I know," Trish muttered. The woman had been calling every day for news of Lor since Dante had returned from Silent Hill. Her concern was well placed, but quite frankly, the woman had started annoying the hell out of Trish by day two. If anything, it was her concern that bothered Trish more than anything, as odd as that was. Lor was a big girl, she didn't need to hold onto anyone's hand to get by, she'd proven as much simply by surviving the Order. This woman was so worrying over someone who was obviously capable of taking care of themselves…it was ridiculous. Sighing, Trish reached for the phone. It would be best to get this over with sooner rather than latter.

**Phone Conversation**

"Hello?"

"She's back."

"Wha? Lor? She's back? Are you sure?"

"I would hope so. She's eating chicken in my kitchen."

"Oh, I'll be right over. Please don't let her leave until I get there. I have a few questions to ask her."

"I don't think she's going anywhere," the response came. Tiffany quietly stared at the phone in her hands, the line had gone dead.

"Who was it?" Josh asked, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

"That woman, Trish. She said Lor's back. Alive."

"You thought Dante lied?" Josh asked mildly surprised.

"He's a demon," Tiffany replied darkly. "She's a demon, and his brother is a demon."

"They're half demons. They're not the reason the Order took Lor, Tiffany," Josh began patiently. "We've been over this. Dante and Trish wouldn't harm Lor."  
"That's not what I'm worried about," Tiffany interrupted.

"Then what are you worried about?"

"The Order," Tiffany replied quietly, a hand on her slightly bulging stomach. Her face was drawn in thought and worry. Josh smiled slightly at the sight of his wife. She wasn't one to trust easily. Neither was Lor for that matter. It was a quality that had made getting to know both of them extremely difficult at first, but then, he'd had his own secrets didn't he? Most fallens didn't bother with the humans they were exiled with, save as servants. Josh however, had discarded any false notions of the traditional and archaic role of humans in times past. And he was better off for it.

"You're worried about what the Order did to Lor." It wasn't a question.

"We'll see," Tiffany replied. It would be better to burn Lor alive then to let her believe what the Order had force fed her for the better part of two months. With the advanced development of her pregnancy, she couldn't risk Lor hurting her child. As much as it would kill her to harm her sister, Tiffany wouldn't allow her past to destroy her future.


	53. Family Matters

hells, bells and bitches,i'm back! Ever had one of those days when the gravity of your bed increased and sucked you into it for the better part of a five hour nap? Yeah...I'm that tired... Anyways, thanks for being patient! New couple of chapters for y'all. They may be a bit long, but I hope y'all enjoy them all the same!

* * *

**Dante and Vergil**

"You took your time getting back," Dante greeted his brother. "I take it she's staying here?" Dante was tinkering with his motorcycle. A few parts were laid out on the back porch, it was an old past time of his. Dante'd been working on that damn bike for two decades now, trying to 'demon' proof it. Vergil doubted his brother would ever be finished tinkering with it by the looks of things. Dante was a mess, his hands covered with grease. Somehow, Vergil wasn't surprised.

"She can't go back to her own home, the Order will be watching," Vergil replied.

"So you're dumping her here," Dante finished for him, clicking two parts together. Vergil continued to watch him work. "Why? What was the point of going to get her in the first place?" Dante glance over to Vergil. He was slightly surprised to see Vergil so annoyed. He could tell by a glance his brother didn't want to discuss it. Big surprise there.

"I'm going back," Vergil replied quietly. "They're after my head Dante. She's too weak to be on her own and I'm going to be gone for a time." Dante looked at his brother, unsurprised. There was no question as to who 'they' were.

"This isn't a babysitting clinic, Verg. If she stays, then she earns her keep. That means she learns how to slay demons. She learns about all of it: the scrolling, orbs, aura use, all of it," Dante replied gruffly. He could feel the girl's aura of resonating within his home. It was enough to make him want to wince. Aura control wasn't an easy thing to master. No wonder Vergil wanted to stash her here, a human who couldn't fight in the underworld would be impossible to conceal with an aura like that. Even suppressed as it was.

"As you wish," Vergil replied after a minute of consideration. Shrugging, Dante picked up his assembled parts and went over to the bike stored in the shed. His bike would be a beauty once it was finished.

"Are you ever going to finish?" Vergil asked distracted.

"Someday."

"You said that last time I asked," Vergil replied.

"Yeah well, you know how it goes," Dante paused for a moment, tightening bolts on a part, "How long you planning to be gone this time?"

"As long as it takes." Vergil watched Dante. The backyard was nothing more than a glorified junk yard. It was barren and filled with numerous heaps of scrap metal save for one corner were a tree stood too close to the wooden fence separating the yard and the back ally. The dirt ground was packed hard underfoot and much of the metal was too damaged from sword practice to be used for anything. Dante finished what he was doing and returned to the deck, wiping the grease from his hands onto his jeans.

"You tell her what you're planning? Where you're going? Does she even have any idea of what's happened to her?" Dante asked. "The eye is inside of her now, isn't it? Along with that crystallized blood, all of it flowing in her veins." He looked up at Vergil from the bottom step of the deck, his eyes hard and unreadable.

"Why do you bother to ask questions you already know the answer to?" Vergil replied. Dante shook his head.

"Whatever, Vergil. I don't know what she did to piss you off, but I think I like her all the more for it," Dante smirked at him suddenly. "Some one who can get under your skin and live to tell about it. Impressive."

"Someone other than you, you mean," Vergil replied dryly.

"Let's just hope you know what you're doing," Dante replied coolly, the smirk gone. "I'd hate to have to kill you a second time brother."

**Lauren and Tiffany**

I could smell Tiffany coming a mile away, the smell of a thousand lit candles and pine trees blazing. She must have been who Trish had called. Damn ESP and pyrokenesis to hell and back. She's pissed, especially if I can smell her in the kitchen while she's knocking on the front door. I hope Dante doesn't mind me using his back yard. I have a feeling he'd be a little upset if Tiffany burned his house down because I was in it. I closed the back door just as Trish opened up the front, talk about your classic timing. I slid down the door, closing my eyes and sighing. Man, I was too tired to do this right now, not that Tiffany was going to give me a choice in the matter.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, slightly amused. I snapped my eyes open. Dante and Vergil were staring at me like I was insane. They don't know Tiffany the way I did. She was most likely pissed that I'd broken my promise. I told her I'd get the hell out the minute I saw anything Order related going on. So, if she knew Dante and Trish, hell she had hired them to get me in the first place, I can only assume she knows I skimped out on details. Actually that I skimped out on nearly 80 of the details. She knows I was at Silent Hill. Oh crap…she's going to freaking kill me.

"Um…well," I began, slowly. I'm not quite sure how to explain to Dante why he's going to be homeless in the next few minutes. Bad thought, it looked like the place had just undergone some serious renovations too. The door I was resting started to heat up. Shit…Tiffany…she'd found me. "Move!" I snapped, as I bolted off Dante's deck. Right as I hit the dirt ground in the junk yard, Tiffany torched Dante's back door, sending it flying into the far fence. Dammit, a dollar said he was going to make me pay for that, if he was anything like Vergil. A column of twisting flame hovered a foot above me for a couple of seconds before dissipating. Oh, she was really pissed at me this time. I got up and glared at Tiffany, dusting my clothes off. She was standing in the burnt door frame, arms crossed. Oh yeah, just by looking at her face I knew she was pissed. And still, I asked.

"You're pissed aren't you?" In response another column of fire streaked across the ground towards me. Oh crap. Twisting, I managed to get out of the way before I got third degree burns.

"What did you think you were doing?" Tiffany demanded. Flames were dancing around her. With every word she sent a fire ball hurtling towards me. It was a nifty piece of footwork avoiding them all, jump, dive, roll, spin, hit the ground, jump. This wasn't even fair. I couldn't hit back, Tiffany was pregnant. I seriously hope Josh is here….then again, that pansy probably wouldn't do anything to help me out. He has a tendency to stay out the fights between Tiffany and I after I accidentally decked him once.

"It wasn't my fault!" I shouted, dodging out of the way of another hurtling fireball.

"Bullshit!" Tiffany spat. She made me run the freaking gauntlet all the way around Dante's yard, dodging her damning fire columns and fire balls. I ran up a ramp made by metal, before back flipping. Hit the ground, get up again, I cann't do this for much longer. Dante was standing next to the shed arms crossed, watching the show. Vergil was beside him, eyebrow raised. The boneheads, I hope Tiffany hit them on accident.

"You lying little pain in my ass, you _promised_!" Tiffany bellowed. I narrowly avoided being burnt to death by another ground streaking fire line by performing a hand spring. It left my arm screaming in pain. I was tired, I was out of shape, I was still hungry, and my opponent could shoot fire balls at me with her brain. The odds where not stacked in my favor.

"I'm not a fucking liar!" I shouted, staggering to keep my balance. I had to get close. Tiffany's aim became less and less accurate the farther you were from her. However, I was probably the only person who knew she was terrified of being burned by the craft she wielded. If I managed to get close, she wouldn't dare use her pyro tricks on me due to the risk of burning herself. Especially not now when she was pregnant.

"The hell you're not!" My dear sister Tiffany let another fire ball fly towards me. It was now or never. I couldn't keep running around like this. Already I was getting tired and if a second pair of my shoes turned into goo I was going to scream.

"The hell I am!" I snarled. Dodging forward I swerved past one fire ball, only to hit the ground as another came flying towards me. Rising I pushed forward, gaining ground. It wasn't easy, but at the rate I was going, it only took me a few seconds to reach the deck.

"Stay away from me," Tiffany snapped, backing up as I advanced on her.

"Fuck no," I replied, quickly following her. "Not until I get my say."

"You lied," she snarled. "You promised you'd get out if you saw the Order."

"I didn't lie!" I snapped. "I didn't see the Order till they pulled me into their getto van!"  
"I'm not stupid Lor!"

"Yes you are! You're stupid pregnant bitch!" I shouted. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Yes it is! You lied and you broke your promise!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!" With that she sent flames at me. Shit I was too close, they would burn me. Grinding my teeth together I blocked the flames, standing still as they rushed towards me. There was no avoiding this. It was hot, but nothing I wasn't use to by now. Grunting I went down on my knee, trying to breath. The thing about tiffany's fire trick was that the flames fed off of the oxygen around me. If she did that again, and I'd most likely end up in the ER breathing out of an oxygen mask.

"It's not my fault," I gasped, coughing. "I'd never fucking agreed to go to Silent Hill and you know it."

"Prove it," Tiffany replied coldly. A flame ball danced in her hand. I knew she wouldn't hesitate to use it. "Prove to me they didn't covert you." I stared at her, shocked. She seriously thought after fourteen plus years of running from these people I'd suddenly pull a 180 and join them? Was it possible that pregnancy could induce insanity? She seriously thought I'd _join_ them?

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I demanded harshly, getting to my feet. Tiffany's eyes widened as she backed up. As bad as Tiffany's temper is, it's nothing compared to mine, and that's a fact. I was beyond annoyed now, I was pissed, on a level Vergil had never managed to completely goad me to. Reaching out I grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tight as I pulled her closer. Her eyes were terrified as the flame went out in her shock. "They fucking cut up my fucking skin with a rusty fucking scalpel and nailed it to a goddamn wall! In front of my fucking eyes! Chop fucking cut me up like I was a fucking piece of steak! And you think I'd thank them for that?" I hissed though my teeth, pulling her close till I could look her in the eye. I know my eyes give me away. They always do. I know she'd see I wasn't lying. Tiffany's known me too long not to be able to read my eyes. "You think I forgot what they made us do when we were five fucking years old?" I whispered to her quietly. "Do you honestly think a day goes by that I don't remember what they included us in?"

"No," Tiffany replied quietly. Her eyes were sympathetic and remorseful now. I released her wrist. The flames burning in Dante's yard began to quiet as her shoulders slumped. "I know you haven't forgotten."

"Damn strait you fucking pregnant sow," I growled. "Don't you _ever_ fucking accuse me of that again."

"I'm sorry Lauren," Tiffany bowed her head, before looking me strait in the eye. "I was worried." Her voice was soft, and hear to hear.

"I know," I replied dryly. "I have the singed hair to prove it."

"I had to know," she replied, gently touching her stomach. "I had to know Lor and you know why." I sighed.

"Save your sob story, I'm too damn tired for it," I replied flatly as I took a seat on the porch. I don't think my legs were going to support me for much longer. Tiffany had been worried about me, hell she was the only person on earth who gave a damn what happened to me. I hadn't meant to worry her so much, but I knew she'd react before giving me a chance to explain. It kinda bothers me that she does that still. She once gave me second degree burns with her worry, it healed over fine, but the experience hadn't been particularly enjoyable. Tiffany tends to be a little bit more emotional like that. I thought for a moment, before flashing her a smile, silently letting her know everything was cool. "If you really want to make it up to though, you could make me a ham sandwich."

"I told you the Order hadn't affected her," Josh chuckled, coming up behind Tiffany. Are you kidding me? She didn't take Josh's word for it? Christ, Tiffany needs a vacation. Sighing, she finally relaxed and leaned back into Josh.  
"Right," Dante commented catching our attention. He was staring at us with a dead expression, "would someone care to tell me who's paying for my new door?"


	54. Shades of Grey

**Vergil**

Vergil had never felt entirely at ease in the underworld. It was a truth he would admit to no one. Still how was one suppose to feel when returning "home" to the place where the ruler wanted him dead? Vergil supposed he felt relief, but it was muted by the price on his head. Not to mention he carried Lauren's scent, the annoying woman. The last thing he needed was to draw the queen's attention any more than he already had.

Vergil looked to the mirror before him. He could see the warped visage of the underworld, seemingly beckoning him. The only thing convenient about this portal was it's location; with in his more favored earth bound home. Sword drawn Vergil slowly stepped into the mirror and into hell; his demon form coming out of it's own accord. Here, he was Nero Angelo, he didn't need to let small matters of humans and their safety annoy him. Here, he could and would find and kill all who threatened what was _his_, where he could reign supreme if he chose to make it so. It was an appealing idea to say the least.

Still in the back of his mind, he could remember the last time he'd ever felt comfort in the halls of hell. Damn Lauren and her scent, damn her fool cigarettes, the smell of them was all over him. Vali and her idiot pawnswould be laughing till…come to think of it...perhaps Lauren wasn't quite as useless as he'd previously assumed...

**Shadows**

She tipped her head back, watching the swarming demons in the oracle's globe. They were killing humans, shedding blood of dhampire and vampire alike, crushing fey into glittering dust. The agony, the pain, the rage….it was all so _perfect_. And look, there was Lauren, her little pet, the naughty run away and wild seed all rolled into one. Ah it was time to send another invitation. Lauren was the only human she had never tamed and the only black guard the deviants of her court listened to. Or so it would seem.

"My Lady," the being bowed before her. "Excuse my interruption, but I was bidden to contact you at the behest of my…Lord." Through the exhilarating thrill of the magic white dust currently sucking her viens dry, the dark princess of the inner-city fey court regarded it. _It_ smelled hideous beneath it's dark cloak that covered it from head to toe. Angels, their stench was distinct as rotting garbage.

"What need have I for you or your master?" she asked. By her side, her life mate stirred. He was impatient with her. He thought it beneath them to indulge in the magic white powder the human's called 'cocaine'. Her majesty begged to disagree. Cocaine was very profitable if one only knew how to harness it's magic for their own use. The premonitions the white powder afforded her majesty were priceless.

"Your alliances have failed. Shortly the dhampire and demons alike will over run your territory. My lord has a proposal for you to consider," the being spoke quickly. "Were you to hand over the heart to the girl in yonder globe, my Lord has a generous offer of power. An alliance if you will."

"Speak being, our patience wears thin," her life mate snapped.

"Very well, promise the heart to the girl of whom I speak and we will ensure her death."

"Why would I do that? You've failed to mention why it is in my interest to relinquish the heart," her majesty of the fey court replied.

"Because it will no longer be useful to you now that the reincarnation of it's master will soon be born. Keep the heart princess, and the demons will swarm you for sure. The queen of hell desires the it. Give it to _us_, and we will deal with your enemies for you." It was a most generous proposal, the queen of hell was know for her ruthlessness. Her majesty could tell however, that her life mate was untrusting of such a bargain. Or perhaps he was impatient for the maiden in the other room. A virgin if Her majesty knew her life mate quiet as well as she thought she did. The curiosity was enough to pique her own interest in the matter.

"You may have the heart," the princess replied. "Only if I may be the one who kills the girl. I've wanted her eyes for some time now."

"We are in accord, your majesty," the being replied. "The key for the heart. My lord has no qualms of the manner of the key's death. You have our alliance for the future war my lady"

"And with whom would I be in alliance with?" her majesty raised an eyebrow. It was not often the angels sent a courier to their lesser cousins courts. She wanted to know for certain what her word was binding to. Impatiently, her lifemate shifted from foot to foot beside her.

"I am but a humble servant, my lady," the being bowed deeply.

"And what is this humble servant's name?" her majesty demanded annoyed. Her majesty was use to getting her way and the members of her newly formed court were coming to understand and even accept the fact that what her majesty wanted, her majesty was sure to get. By fair means or foul. She was after all, a dark princess. Her life mate growled lowly in warning to the angel.

"Raziel, my lady," the being replied after a moment's hesitation. "I am called Raziel."

**Vergil**

Vergil pulled his blade out. The demon before him wheezed, it wouldn't beg for it's life, it knew that was pointless. However, it's glazed eye was staring up at him, the one seeing eye wild with pain, fear, and despair. It wanted a quick death, he would grant that, as soon as he knew what he desired. It had been foolish to think it could kill him in the first place. He was general, not a useless underling footman.

"Now, where is she?" he asked the demon, leaning on Yamato's hilt casually. The demon's breath came in rattled gasps. It opened it mouth to speak, blood traveling down it's reptilian chin as it spoke.

"My Lord, the queen holds court in the main hall," the demon paused to chough up more blood.

"I see, you have been most helpful Crod," Vergil pulled his sword out of the ground. The crocodile demon eyed him.

"Please my honorable Lord, spare me and I will forever be your loyal servant," it wheezed. "I would do all you would ask to live my lord."

"What need do I have of a servant?" Vergil asked, annoyed. He buried his foot into the demon's belly. It grunted in pain.

"I can be your eyes and ears my Lord Nero Angelo," the demon gasped. "Please consider, my service is of great value, I would do all you asked of me." Vergil narrowed his eyes at the demon before him. The Citadel was mere moments away, why waste more time on this useless being? A slave servant for indifference, it was a trade his pride could permit.

"As you wish. Risk my anger with your life, demon, those are my only orders for now," Vergil lowered yamoto's edge. "Now go weakling." Whimpering the demon bowed it's head and started to slowly crawl back to it's home. Vergil turned to face the looming Citadel…no doubt Vali was waiting.


	55. The Help

**Lauren**

He ditched me. At Devil Never Cry with Trish and Dante. And he didn't even say goodbye, I can't freaking believe him, the jerk. Not to mention I'm stuck paying for a door I didn't break in the first place. It was weird the first couple of days, staying with Dante and Trish. Especially at night. Random demon attacks aside, the markings were back. They usually showed up between midnight to four in the morning. They were weak, hardly more than a shadow or faint bruise, but they were there all the same. Is it pointless to say I haven't been sleeping well since these damn things showed up again? Hell, I haven't insomnia in such a long time, I hardly know what to do now that I have it again. Which is why I'm sitting downstairs in the front office with Gram in my lap, waiting for sleep to find me. I haven't been successful for nearly an hour and a half now.

It was lucky really, finding Gram in my messenger bag. I must have been in a hurry to shove my raggedy teddy bear in there to begin with, I had been late for work at the time. Another example where Vergil screwed me over. Although, I think I like it here at DNC, to be honest. Dante and Trish are pretty lax with everything. I don't really have anything to complain about…except for the fact that I can't sleep. So now I'm sitting here in the front office staring at dead demon heads speared onto the wall, trying to memorize what they all look like, and wondering how the hell I'm going to manage working at Sloppy Joe's with these freaking things. I'm pretty sure someone's going to notice they move. It would be nice to at least know what the hell they are. Damn you Vergil…

**Dante**

Dante woke. What was that? Casting around the room, he saw nothing amiss. What had waken him? Beside him, Trish stirred, her blond hair cascading like spider's threads across her milk pale skin. Like usual, nothing drove her from sleep. Easily he relaxed, until he heard it again. It sounded like a sob, a dry one. Dammit, sin scythes? How had they managed to get in? If he had to rebuild the place again…in as many monthes…

Soundlessly, Dante eased from bed. No need to wake Trish for this. He made his way down the second story hall, silent as the shadows he could see through. At the top of the stairs he paused. It was there, in the living room, and he was pretty certain now it wasn't a sin scythe. It was that girl. Faintly he could make out her figure, slouched at the foot of the couch, her arms wrapped around her legs. The sounds were coming from her? Casually he stumbled down the stairs and flicked on the light, giving her enough time. She moaned, shading her eyes with her hand.

"What are you doing?" Dante asked carelessly, heading into the kitchen.

"Insomnia," she replied softly, blinking. "I'm sorry if I woke you." Heading back into the living room, beer in hand, he took a seat, studying her. Her yellow eyes were dry and her voice steady. It was easy to tell she didn't trust anyone. On her skin the angelic markings had flared to life again, writhing like thick dark cords of their own accord. Just above her drawn close knees, he could make out the ear tips of something furry, suspiciously akin to a teddy bear.

"Wake me? I hear demons breathing a mile away," Dante replied, sparing her a glance. "You normally stay awake until three in the morning?"

"No," she retorted flatly. "These things won't stop moving," she sighed, holding up her arms. "It bothers me," she added. As it should, Dante thought dryly.

"They always move like that?" Dante crushed the now empty beer can.

"Is it normal for tattoos and scars to move on their own?" At that he smirked. She was tough, keeping her head above the water better than most would have managed.

"Did he even tell you what they were?" he asked casually. She gave him a blank look, raising an eyebrow, letting her silence be her answer. He hadn't thought so.

"You know what they are?" she asked. Not knowing had to be annoying.

"Scrollings, if I'm guessing correctly," he replied as he headed into the kitchen again.

"Scrollings? What the hell are scrollings?"

"Angelic markings," Dante replied as he returned, holding two more beers. He tossed one to Lauren, easily she caught it. Dante took a seat at the desk, leaning back as cracked the can open. So Vergil hadn't even told her that? Briefly Dante closed his eyes as he tilted the can back. The idiot, he was too use to hell.

"Angelic markings? You're kidding right?" she asked flatly. Dante eyed her raising an eyebrow. "Never mind," she sighed, cracking her beer open. She took a sip, before continuing, "What else?"

"They can mean a number of things," Dante replied easily, "historically they've stood as a stigmata for great destiny, reincarnation, or great power". She stared at him over her beer can blankly. Well, this would either make her or break her. She seemed to be handling things good so far… "Or that you're a fallen angel."

"Figures," she muttered, "the one time he actually told me the truth I didn't believe him." Dante chuckled at her blunt irritation. So Vergil had told her. Huh. That was…unexpected. Dante lowered his can a fraction of an inch, studying Lor over the rim.

"Is that a teddy bear?" Lor gave him a dead stare, the brown ears of the stuffed animal becoming invisible as she stuffed it down further into her lap.

"And what if it is?" Dante smirked.

"You sleep with a stuffed animal?"

"You're just too macho to admit how cute he is," she replied smoothly.

"I'm sure that's it," he smirked. Lor gave him a dirty face before taking another swig of her beer. "So what are you going to do now?" Dante asked, finishing the beer.

"Now?"

"Yeah. Those markings are going to make you an easy target."

"So I've noticed," she sighed, shrugging. "I don't know."

"Then that settles it," Dante stood up, throwing the beer cans away.

"Settles what?" she demanded, watching him with sharp eyes. Her obvious mistrust, where had he seen that before? It was evident that though their blood smelled vastly different, Tiffany and Lor had lived together for the entirety of their lives. They even fought as siblings would.

"If you're staying here with no plans, then you're going to be the help," Dante replied crossing his arms.

"The help?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She set the beer down, giving him her full attention. "And what would that include?"

"Everything from demon slaying and purification to filing the bills."

"Are you serious?"

"You move fast and you have some skill, that's obvious. Do you have any weapons? Do you know how to use weapons?" Might as well start with the basics. Lor stared at him with a blank face, before replying.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"They're not at my home if that's what you're asking." Dante stared at her, not bothering to ask the obvious. "At a friend's house," She replied after a moment more, "Outta town."

"Then that's were we're going tomorrow." With that he left, heading upstairs.

"Hey Dante," Lor was on her feet, at the base of the stairs. He half turned, raising an eyebrow. "Um…thank you." She was holding her teddy bear in both scroll filled arms. And there was the difference between Lor and her human 'sister' Tiffany. Lor was a good kid, he almost pitied her for being stuck in the situation she was in. That was damped somewhat by her abilities however.

"Whatever," Dante replied, with a casual wave of the hand over his shoulder as he continued up the stairs. "How else were you planning on paying me back for the door?" Lor rolled her eyes then, snorting.

"Funny, real funny." Chuckling, Dante headed down the hall. It would be interesting to see how Lor could fight when armed. The way she'd avoided her sister's flames had been an interesting sight. Her stance had looked vaguely familiar. He couldn't quite place where he'd seen it before though. Shrugging the thoughts away, Dante sunk back into bed, kissing Trish's shoulder as he slid an arm around her waist.

"Is she going to do it?" Trish murmured half asleep, not bothering to open her eyes.

"I think so."

"That's good," Trish sighed, snuggling close as Dante made himself comfortable. "I hope she has a decent right hook." Chuckling softly, Dante kissed her shoulder one more time. His Trish, what an impatient woman.


	56. Lady Mary Divine

Hello! Couple of chapters! Thank you for being patient with me. Anyways, enjoy! Oy!And aspecial thanks goes out to Tamarani and IceCamero! Now, Enjoy!

* * *

**Lady's Regrets, written on a burnt piece of paper**

I gave my life away  
there's nothing left to say  
I gave my life away  
You take it in your way

my selfish enemy  
still has the best of me  
empty and feeling numb  
wish I could take it away

-Seether, Hang On

**Lauren**

"Tell me again, why you had me drive you all the way out here?" Dante asked dryly. I think he's grouchy because I woke him up at eight. Apparently 'then that's where we're going tomorrow' meant tomorrow late afternoon, _way_ late afternoon. I didn't think Dante would actually make good on his word though. But so far he's been serious about me being the help at DNC.

"My friend," I explained, "she used to live out her. And she still has all of my old gear." For about a year now anyways. Here's hoping the old bat is still alive and kicking. Dante shakes his head, but doesn't say anything as we walk up the steps to the Buddhist temple. He doesn't understand why I need to get my own stuff when he and Trish have plenty extra to spare when I explained what exactly my weapons were. All the same, here we are. I didn't know how to explain it to him exactly. I can't find the words to say that my gear is more precious and odious to me than anything I own. It's all I have left of Sion and Dominique besides a few photos and it has a lot of memories tied to it, most of them are dark memories. Things I don't want to remember. That's why I had someone I trusted, Lady Mary, hold on to it for me, when I decided to retire my gear. I couldn't explain it to Dante with out having to tell him about Sion and Dominique. I don't think I could have handled that. Even after three years of them being gone.

"Hello?" I call. There's not a soul to be seen in this place, save for the birds. "Is anyone there?" I step into the shade of the open dais. It's almost blinding with the light contrast. For an autumn day, it's delightfully warm and sunny out. "Hello?" my voice echoes off the walls.

"You scared everyone away," Dante comments, looking around. I snort.

"Yeah right. You mean they found out _you_ were coming," I retort. For the first time that day, Dante cracks a smirk. Mental note to self, half demons are not morning people. My broken alarm clock can testify to that.

"Didn't you even bother to call ahead?" he asks a minute later. We walk deeper in the Buddha temple. The place is as quiet as a crypt. "If no one's here, you're walking back." Geez, where's the love? Another way I know Vergil and Dante are related, they have no patience.

"Is anyone there?" I call again, ignoring him. The wind whistles, shifting through the leaves and late blooming flowers. I wonder how she got cherry blossoms to grow in this climate. Come to think of it, why the hell are they blooming now? Isn't it a little late for that?

"What do you want?" a deep gravelly voice asks. The sound of it resounding off the walls of this empty place makes me jump. I squint in the darkness. I can barely see him, but he's there, leaning against a Buddha statue. I wonder how long that guy's been there. Where have I heard that voice before? It sounds so…_familiar_.

"Hey there! I'm looking for Lady Mary. Do you know where I can find her?" I sure hope he does, because it took us a good two hour motorcycle ride to get out here. That's a walk I don't want to make.

"_Lauren_?" He takes a step towards us. The weak sunlight spilled over his face and I literally felt my jaw drop open. Slowly I feel a genuine smile dance across my lips. Then I'm running towards him. I glomp him so hard he has to take a step back to keep his balance. As I wrap my arms around his neck he picks me up effortlessly and swings me around in a circle, making the world spin. Just like he use to do when I was little.

"Oh my god!" I take a step back and get a good look at him. "Volt! Where the hell have you been for the last three years?"

"I could say the say for you kiddo," he says easily. He's almost the way I remember him. His hair's getting a little grey though. Hell he has to be what? Thirty seven or so? He's pretty buff for an old man. He can probably lay my ass out flat on the floor still. He's lost the horns and jacket, though. I mourn their loss.

"You got rid of your jacket," I say, poking his plain shirt. It's just not the same to see him wearing normal clothes and going around with out his famous 'no escape' leather jacket. "Why? I liked it."

"You grew your hair out," Volt grins, not commenting on his changed appearance. As a rule, Volt never actually smiles, no one who's ever lived on Dog Street ever smiles easily. But as a seldom grinner, it's worth it's weight in gold. Volt places his hands on my shoulders, studying me. He smells like familiar soap like he always use to, and his hands are still huge. "Sion'd be impressed to see you looking this way." I roll my eyes and snort, but between you and me, it just got difficult to swallow.

"As touching as this is, where's this woman we're looking for?" Dante asks. Volt and I both grace him with twin looks of disbelief. I haven't seen Volt since Sion and Dominique's joint funeral. Half demons….no patience what-so-ever. I swallow the lump in my throat before speaking.

"Volt this is Dante, Dante this is Volt."

"Nice to meet you," Volt glances to Dante as he cracks his knuckles. I can practically see Volt's head going into overdrive. He may not have been around for the last three years but he plays the part of an overprotective bodyguard from time to time. It doesn't help that he's family I suppose. Dante raises an eyebrow in return.

"So do you know where I can find her?" I ask Volt, drawing his attention.

"You're in luck, she's in today." I sigh relieved. That's good news for my feet.

"Can I see her?" I ask. "I need my stuff back."

"Your stuff?" Volt's eyes darken as they study my face. "Why? What's happened?"

"Ah, well," I glance over to Dante. He doesn't say anything, just watches me and Volt. I guess I chose what to say and what not to say. Another thing I can respect about half demons, it's always my choice and my words. Nobody else decides for me, unlike the way it is with Tiffany. "Um…I've just been getting uneasy lately."

"Is it them?" Volt asks quietly, his eyes closed. He's considering the implications. I nod.

"Yeah, they're back."

"How's Tiffany?" He asks. Volt knows, about the order, how dangerous they can be. That's why he's always had my absolute trust, no questions asked.

"Pregnant," I smirk at his surprised look. "Married too. But don't worry about it, she's fine for the most part. _They_ haven't bothered her."

"Well then," Volt jerks his head to the side. "Let's get your stuff."

"Right!" I grin at him. I fall into step easily behind him. Dante walks beside me quite as a ghost.

"So have you heard from Kou or Echidna or Leann?" I ask. Jesus, I sound like a little kid. Oh well, chalk it up to the excitement of seeing Volt and Lady Mary. "What happened to everyone? What about the boss?"

"Slow down Lor, one question at a time. Kou and Leann were somewhere in Basin City last I heard. Another mission or assignment for their organization. Kou said something about taking down corrupted officials, but you know the way it is. We only learn about the aftermath, if that."

"And Ecidna?"

"She's at the zoo."

"What?" I stare at the back of Volt's white shirt in disbelief. If there was one place I could never imagine Ecidna working, the zoo would be it. It just wasn't her style. What is she-?  
"What is Ecidna doing at the zoo right?" Volt asks, reading my mind like he does from time to time. "She's there with my son, Lor."

"Your son?" I say faintly. Wow, Volt as a father figure. It was so hard to picture. Sure he'd always been one of my father figures, but someone else's? And a full time father figure at that? Times have changed. I wonder if Volt ever plans to teach his son how to wrestle like he taught me. "You have a son now? What's his name?"

"His name's Zach," Volt replies, "it's his birthday next week. He'll be two then." The hallway we're walking down is dark and quite. The only sounds to be heard are me and Volt clomping our way to where ever it is Lady Mary is at. Dante of course, doesn't make a sound as he treads over the aging wood.

"Boss retired last year, moved to Florida," Volt takes a left and we head down another long and dark hallway. Damn, where the hell are we going? This place is confusing. "Anything else?"

"I don't know," I say. "Actually I was surprised to see you here. I thought you quite the body guard gig."

"I did. I'm just keeping a promise I made. Besides, the city's too dangerous for Zach," Volt stops to open a set of wooden doors. On the other side is a zen garden, a magnolia tree, and beneath the tree a large empty wooden chair.

"I don't blame you," I say softly. Volt has no idea how dangerous the city can be. I look around. "Hey where she?" I take a couple of steps into the garden. My feet sink softly into the sand. At the base of my skull, just below and a little back from my ear, I feel the hard metallic kiss of a gun muzzle. I go still. If there's one way I don't want to die, it would be by a close range bullet wound. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dante's hand freeze on the hilt of his sword. He looks like he may go into shock for a moment. Almost nothing sneaks up on a half demon. I would know. I tried to sneak donuts past Vergil last week. Seriously, half demons hear everything.

"Lady Mary? It's just Lauren." Volt states, nonplussed. The gun muzzle drops away and the withered old lady turns me to face her. She, at least, hasn't changed since I last saw her. Her brown and blue colored eyes study me. Her hair is still the same shade of grey, a perfect mix of black and white. Of all the things about Lady Mary I love, I adore her eyes and hair the most. Their oddities were just a few of the things we had in common. Lady Mary was also the first person to show me why I didn't have to be afraid of demons, at least not when I could kick their asses instead.

"Ah, Lauren-Rose Barzahd Star, my young protégé. Come to collect your things?" Her voice is strong and she smirks as her tongue smoothly flows over my double first and middle names. For an older woman, Lady Mary is still aware and kicking. I don't think that bat will ever die. God help the poor demon who thinks she's easy prey.

"Yes ma'am," I bow. Lady Mary has to be one of the few people I actually show respect to, other than the family I grew up with. Sion never particularly liked Lady Mary, I never found out why though. "There are…some things…I need to deal with." She nods to me, her eyes understanding and accepting. Neither Volt or Lady Mary have any idea about Linda. I plan on keeping it that way. I don't want them to look at me the way Tiffany had when she first visited me in the hospital, after I came out of the coma. I don't think I could take something like that.

"Volt, show Lauren to her belongings." Volt nods and heads off across the zen garden. I bow again, deeply, and take off after Volt. He's already on the other side of the garden. I can't wait.

**Dante and Lady**

Dante was the first to speak.

"So what should I call you?" At that the woman smiled.

"I don't care. Whatever you want," she said.

"Whatever Lady," Dante murmured quietly. He was at a loss for words. He hadn't realized Lor's 'Lady Mary' was the same Lady he had once known, though he'd had reservations. Gods, he'd forgotten how long ago that had been, the Tower incident. Hell, he should have known better. He was bound to run into her again with Vergil on the lose. Still seeing her like _this_, however was…disconcerting. The Lady he remembered had been young and angry, as likely to spare you as to blow your head off. She'd even tried it on him twice, he thought ruefully. She was the only one to ever come that close to blowing his brains out. Once again, Dante was reminded of how fragile humans were. They were like mom's special dinner plates, so perfect yet they broke so easily given enough time.

"Does my appearance bother you?" Lady asked quietly. "I had wondered if you'd gone and gotten yourself killed from time to time. I didn't think it possible though."

"Nah, still around," Dante took a couple of steps. "I didn't know you knew Lor."

"Ah yes, my angry protégé. Loves to kill demons almost as much as I do," a brief smile painted her lips for a moment. "Loves to fight more however, than actually kill. She's no born killer, but works as a substitute. Her aura has undergone some changes."

"So I noticed," Dante allowed. He took another step closer to her. She was still built like a bird, all skin and bones. Even the cute scar across her nose was faded with time. Slowly Dante peeled off a glove. With his free hand he reached out and rubbed a single tress of her black hair between his fingers, the grey was starting to show through. She didn't even bother maintaining her distance from him like she had before. Her hair was still as soft as baby fur, though nothing covered up the smell of sickness.

"They say I have a month left, maybe two," Lady said softly. "They call it bone cancer and treat me like a stupid uninformed woman." She smiled. Shaking his head Dante took back his hand. "If they only knew the things I was doing when I was their age. I wonder what they would say then." He said nothing as she began to walk way. "At least I can die with grace, no demon will ever end my life. By the way," she paused for a moment to look over her shoulder at him in the sunlight, "did you ever find your brother again?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"I see. Take care of her, Dante. She's my only legacy in this world. You and that girl, you two are the only ones left who matter. Those brave souls to give the rest of those cowards hope and courage," Lady smiled at Dante's sarcastic expression. "I don't think you hear it enough." She turned to leave. "Good bye demon." Dante felt a smile pull at his lips, even through his irritation.

"Good bye Lady."

**Lauren**

Dante had been unusually quiet for the whole ride back so far. Not that he was a particularly talkative person. I wonder what's eating him? Ah whatever, I got my stuff, that's all that matters. I'd nearly ripped Volt's hands off trying to get all from him. My smooth worn gloves still fit. Guess it was an advantage to stop growing after the age of 15. I literally didn't grow out of anything. Hell I wore a hole though the bottom of my last pair of decent shoes, and they had been four years old.

Still, I was squirming like a horny school girl at a football tryout. I wanted to see if I could still do it. If I remembered everything Sion and Lady Mary had taught me. Oh yes, I was eager to see if I still remembered how to crack skulls and break necks. If my body still remembered the rush of adrenaline when your back is against the wall and a heap of trouble is laid in your lap. For my own sake, I hope like hell it does.


	57. The Brother Swords

**The Brother Swords**

Dante wakes me up at four a.m. the next day. God…payback is a bitch. You think for someone who was complaining about being up so early the day before, he'd show some compassion. Then again, that's the problem isn't it? He probably didn't even need to sleep, the lucky bastard, not like I do anyways. I managed to pull on some clothes with out falling on my face.

It took me a good half an hour to buckle up all my gear and I'm pretty sure I'm wearing my shirt backwards. There's something to be said for the complexity of gauntlets. I left off the shin guards though, I'd don't have combats any more. For the most part my gauntlets are skin adhering black leather, Lady Mary made them for me. Nothing special there, just your typical gauntlet construction. But the real fun comes into play on my elbows, knuckles and wrists where nice sharp razor blades have been inserted into the leather. It was a bitch inserting all them. I cut up my hands pretty good doing it. That being said, I had a hell of a time getting down stairs as I was so zoned out.

"Good morning," Trish mutters to me. She's wearing a red tank and a black silk miniskirt. Her hair is now cut to her ears. When did that happen? I haven't seen her for the last two days, come to think of it. Life is just not fair. Even with a hair cut she still looks to die for. If anything she looks all the more cuter with a bob. Now all she needs is some highlights and her and Barbie can yuck it up on a beach in Maui. …whoa…I need coffee.

"What'd you do to your hair?" I ask her as I shuffle across the kitchen. She glares daggers at me. I yawn as I pour myself a mug of coffee. "Well it looks cute for what it's worth. What's for breakfast?"

"In the dinning room," Trsih growls. She straitens up and eyes me before heading into the front room to get the phone. Okay. Whatever that was about. I shuffle over to the table. Oh….Krispy Kremes, so there is a god. I finish off a donut in record time along with another three cups of coffee.

"Let's go," Dante tells me when I'm half finished, materializing out of nowhere. Literally. I've got to figure out how to do that. He must've been pulling a job from the looks of the goo smeared on his blade. I ignore him for a few minutes, still eating. Shrugging off his jacket, Dante joins Trish, giving her a kiss. No wonder Trish is never in a bad mood this early for long. I yawn again and down the rest of my coffee. It must have been one hell of a job. I grabanother donut.

I've still been eating like a cow since Silent Hill. Usually I eat like…well, I eat heartily, but I usually don't down three cups of coffee and six donuts for breakfast. I wonder where we're going to train at. Hopefully nowhere on a motorcycle and some place that has biscuits and gravy. No way in hell would I get that lucky, not this year anyways. Dante turns to me, eyebrow raised.

"Mrrrphfff," I reply, half asleep.

"Move it _kid_, we're burning daylight." With that, he heads out the back door, letting it swing shut behind him. What daylight? The sun isn't even up. Groaning, I grab another donut and follow him outside. Dante leads me to a small old fashioned cellar on the side of the house. Its the same type that Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz had. Go figure. Dante pulls open both doors and steps in, letting gravity suck him down into the black hole. I however, opt use the step ladder. I've had enough falling on my ass inthe last several monthsto last me a life time and then some.

I'm amazed by what I see when I get down into the cellar. A bare bulb hangs from the ceiling, showing walls lined with weapons of every kind. Christ, Dante gives the word paraphernalia a whole new meaning. There are swords and nunchucks and throwing darts and throwing stars and staffs and halberds and tridents and gauntlets and scythes and armored whips and spiked armor and geez…what the heck was that called? What the hell would you _use_ something like that for? Where did he get all of these?

"Damn," I whistle wide awake now. "How did you get all of these?"

"I kill demons," Dante shrugs. "Pick one."

"What?" I look over to him in the dim light.

"You need a sharp edge to kill a demon. Many wear armor or have extremely thick hides. Your gantlets have been modified for human combat. Don't make me point out the obvious," Dante replied, overriding my interruption. "All demons like to kill humans, Lor. Unless you're completely certain you can take a demon out with a single blow," he nods to the shelves, not bothering to finish his sentence. "Pick one." Goddamn. He's serious. Unbelievable. I'mactually going to get a weapon to kill demons with...I look around. Wait a minute. How'd a guitar get down here?

"Um…" I point to the guitar. The poor thing, it doesn't even have any strings on it. "What's that doing down here?" At that, he raises an eyebrow, smirking.

"That's Nevan. I think you should choose something other than that. It's a difficult weapon to master."

"It's a weapon?" I ask mildly. Dante doesn't bother replying.Unbelievable doesn't even beginto cover it. I look around some more. My foot ends up finding my swords for me. I stub my toe on them actually, on a wooden box, half shoved under a shelf. "Ow. What the? What's this?" Kneeling down I open the box, inside are two swords exactly alike except for the coloring. One sword is blue while the other one is red.

"Agni and Rudra," Dante winces. He named them? Wow, Dante needs to get out more. Why is he wincing?

"Master, we are so happy to see you again," the hilt of the red sword opens its eyes and speaks. Silently I let the swords drop.

"It just spoke," I inform Dante, blankly. I fumble for my lighter.

"I know," he says dryly. Apparently, demon swords can do this. No wonder Vergil's half insane, the way he holds onto his sword all the time. I should ask him if it talks to him sometime. I say nothing as I eye the two swords. My hands are in auto mode as I take out a cig and lit it.

"Brother, are you hurt? Brother?" the red sword calls out.

"I'm fine Agni, but who is this maiden with our Master?" The blue hilt asks.

"I'm not sure brother, our Master has not yet told us," the red hilt replied. It seemed to be the smarter of the two. Huh, talking swords. Kneeling down, I pick them up again.

"My name's Lor," I say to them. I feel my mouth twisting into a grin. They look so stupid it's funny. "Nice to meet you."

"Brother, is she our new master?" The blue asks.

"No Rudra, our old master still lives," the red replies. I start to laugh. Oh wow, talking swords. I think I just found my tools of mass mayhem and destruction. Even better, they can tell jokes. Score.

"Dante," I choke out. "What aboutthese two?" Personally, I think they'd be perfect. Lady, Sion, Volt, everyone I've ever learned from, have always taught me to use my hands as two individuals, sometimes as a team if need be. I don't think I could master using a sword the way Dante and Vergil do. Strait plane physics are enough to make me puke. Basically, it's a different way of thinking. Not to mention two short swords about the length of my forearm is exactly what I've had experience fighting with. These two swords, Rudra and Agni, they echo the razors inserted on my gauntlets.

"Master, you haven't traded us off?" The red sword-Agni-cries desperately. I look to Dante; he's staring at the two swords, the eye muscles under his left eye are twitching. For my own safety I try to stem the laughter.

"The no talking rule is still in effect," Dante tells the two swords annoyed. The swords shut-up.

"Please?" I plead. They really are cute, in a I'm-going-to-kill-you-with-my-talking-swords kind of way. I wonder if they do ventriloquism tricks...

"They're all yours," Dante replies shaking his head. He turns to leave.

"Master no!" the swords gasp together. I can't help myself. I start to laugh.

"You're all mine now," I tell them. I exhale a cloud of fumes that sends the red one coughing.

"We refuse to transform for you! Only our true master has earned that right!" the red one tells me between spasmic coughs. Hmmm…demon swords…he must be talking about when Dante and Vergil transform into their less pleasant forms.

"Well aren't we a little pissy. Anyways that doesn't bother me," I tell them as I follow Dante. "I don't transform into anything but a bitch and even then I'm still human."

"What?" Agni gasps. "A _human_? A human…_woman_? Master please, I beg you, do not do this." Dante ignores it. I laugh harder. Man this stupid sword thinks I'm bad he should meet Linda. Dante really must not like these swords. I wonder why…

"Brother, our new master is fair," the blue hilt says tentatively. "Fairer than our old master was."

"So says the talking sword," I retort. Whatever that means…

"See brother? She is more reasonable as well," the blue hilt-Rudra-tells the red one. Agni just harumps and they bothfall silent. Geez, finally, I think I'm starting to understand why Dante winced. They starting to give me a headache. Trish is waiting for us when we reach the back yard.

"What did you chose?" Trish asks casually. She's holding onto a coffee mug and a sword, now there's a combo I'm starting to become familiar with. I hold up both swords for her inspection. "You chose those two?" Trish turns to Dante a look of disbelief and carigne on her face, "You let her choose those two?" He ignores her and unsheathes his own sword.

"Hey, I picked 'em out," I reply slightly annoyed.

"You're choice, I guess," Trish eyes me and shakes her head. "You'll want to toss them in fifteen minutes flat though." I shrug, inhaling on my cig.

"They make me laugh."

"Master's wife, please, save us from this mortal woman!" Agni begged Trish.

"Hey!" I stare at the red sword, slightly annoyed. Excuse me? What is it that demons have against humans anyways? Ungrateful little bastard…

"Please, Mistress, humans are unstable," Agni continues. Trish starts to chuckle. It figures that I'd pick out the annoying swords. I hold Angi up to my face.

"Who are you calling unstable?" I ask flatly. "Considering you're just a hunk of metal with no legs and a big mouth, I'd shut up if I were you."

"Never will a mere human ever amount to anything," Agni shouts. Damn he's loud, I hold him away from my face, wincing. He continues to whine at the top of his…um….lungs. …I think.

"Who the hell gave him the intelligence to speak?" I ask Trish and Dante above Agni's whine. Ignoring this is out of the question. God my head. He just made that ever present slight throb turn into a sledgehammer and cement drill brigade.

"They're all yours now. You figure out how shut him up and then we'll start on the difficult things," Dante smirks. I wince again. No wonder he doesn't like them, I'm going to be hearing this in my sleep.

"Still think they're funny?" Trish askes, the laughter evident in her voice. I ignore both of them.

"Agni," I try to get his attention. "Agni!" He's still bitchin' at the top of his lungs. "Hey shut-up!" I yell, smacking Agni's headagainst the ground. That shuts him up; for a sword hilt, Agni has a very expressive face. He even has the decency to look a bit stunned. "Now," I tell him sweetly. "_You're_ going to shut-up. When I need to use either of you for _any_ reason, you're going to shut up. The _only_ reason you speak when I use you, is if a demon is about to rip off my goddamning head. If you chose not to follow this rule, you get to spend the rest of your miserable life rotting away at the bottom of garbage heap in the city dump. Comprenden?" I look at both swords. They're silent. "I'm glad we've reached an understanding," I smile sweetly at the two of them.Huh...that was easier thanI thought it was going to be.I turn to Dante and Trish. "Now what?" Dante and Trish look at each other. Dante swings his sword in a giant arch so it's pointing at me. Easily Trish sets her mug on the porch, hefting her own sword. Oh crap…what have I gotten myself into?

"Now the fun begins," he says, smirking. "I hope you have that gear of yours strapped on tightly. You're going to need it."


	58. Queen of Hell

**The Queen of Hell**

"Well, well, the black angel has returned to me. They say third time is the charm," her face was flawless ebony, as white as the throne she sat on. The colorchosen specifically to mock those in heaven. The grand hall stood empty, save for the twoof them,as he knelt before her. Her smile danced cruelly on full red lips. Once again, Vergil was reminded of how similar Vali and Lauren appeared.

"You have a need of me?" Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Dare me, did I say that?" Vali asked, tapping a blood red lip with a long crystal fingernail. The motion told him it would be unwise to continue speaking. Vali held the cards in hell, every demon be it small or large danced on end of her puppetry strings.

"As you wish," Vergil replied, turning to leave.

"You dare leave before I dismiss you?" Vali asked amused. It was one of her favorite past times, watching newer Generals dance on their toes, torn between pride and obedience. It was what she wanted really, complete dominance….and painful amusement. As her 'servant' for the better part of fifteen years, he knew better than to risk her annoyance. Though he was damned if he'd play as her puppet for much longer. He need to bid his time patiently...that was all...

"Whatever you wish Vali," he replied easily, turning to her. The mask that hid everything was in place, it hid his anger, annoyance, pain, suffering, happiness, the list was endless. It hid everything that was not deadly indifferent calm. His obedience made her smile, that damning beautiful mouth of hers made him itch to beat her into a senseless pulp. It was the smile she only wore when she was amused. Valienjoyed pain far too much for comfort, but then again, she was the queen of hell. Between two fingers Vali played with a long strand of her midnight hair, twining the curls around and around her pointer finger. If he hadn't already been on his guard, he would have drawn it up the moment he saw her idleness. Nothing was more dangerous in hell than an idle queen.

"Surly you are aware I sent Thallis to you?" The queen asked amused. "Come now, I _know_ are." Vergil held his silence, even quenching the small motion of tightening his hand upon zanbato's hilt. Any outward sign of emotion would be noticed and noted for future use. The queen wasmaticulous when prescribing the proper punishment for the 'crime'. "Thallis failed me, as I expected he would. That weakling was never a match for you. Nallius however, she surprised me. As did you, Nero. I expected a battle and her head to be sent to me. However, I was disappointed." With that Vali snapped her fingers.

Gaurds came then, General Alyssa and Ormburn. Mentally Vergil winced as he saw Ormburn pulling Nallius behind him on a thick barbed chain. She looked beaten and hopeless, the wild green fire in her eyes dead. Vali had allowed Ormburn to indulge himself with Nallius, he realized. It wasn't uncommon for failures to be mocked and ridiculed. The punishments for failure was often brutal, most were life ending. Enemies, like Ormburn often waited for the failures of a stronger foe before striking. In Nallius's case, Gerneral Ormburn had been disfigured by Nallius in a petty dual over pride. Now Ormrun was blind in one eye and missing several digits on his sickly looking limbs. Thus as the weaker demon, Ormburn had bided his time till Nallius fell. Roughly he forced the former general to kneel, even when he and Alyssa had risen to their feet.

"Since both of you failed to entertain me, I will give you a chance to elude your current dilemma. Kill Nallius now, and I will forgive you for leaving. No further punishment will befall you. However, choose not to kill Nallius," the queen paused a moment to stand up. "And punishment will be mine for the reaping. Ormburn will enjoy Nallius until the day he finally chooses to kill her." Gracefully, in a dress of white lace, Vali descended upon her subjects. She casually circled Vergil.

Gently she leaned close, she kissed his cheek. "I do not make the same offer twice. Be wise in your decision, _Vergil_," Vali whispered in his ear. How much did the black bitch really know? To use his human name implied she knew more than he would wish. Vali was perhaps the only demon in hell that remembered his human name. As the puppet master of Mundus, she was a more difficult foe than what he could deal with at the moment. Looking to Nallius, Vergil unsheathed his sword. Leering Alyssa and Ormburn backed up. What the black bitch wanted, Vali was sure to get. She wanted to watch something suffering, Nallius was just the passing moment's toy. It was enough to make even a sadist cry. Silently Nallius watched him. There was no fear in her eyes, just acceptance. She had known, the minute she left the beach, she would die. Or at least he hoped she had. Sword in hand, he approached Nallius. A slight smile on her feline face, Nallius lifted her chin, exposing her throat.

"I would ask for a clean death, but I know better," she murmured wryly. "Perhaps we will save our sparing match later?"

"I believe so," Vergil replied quietly, hefting zanbato. It dead weight was both reassuring and a deadly reality of what he was going to do. Where it with in his power, Nallius would be spared.

"I pity you," Nallius replied loudly, her eyes never leaving Vergil's. "To continue to be her toys, you poor fools."

"Kill her now," Vali interrupted annoyed. "I grow wary of her insolence." More likely Vali grew wary with her truthful words.

"As you wish," Vergil inclined his head to Nallius, the barest fraction of an inch. Nallius in turn, responded likewise. It was not wise that, what he had done, but of the demons in hell Nallius was perhaps one of the few he could respect, however little. She did not blame him for her death it would seem.

"Good bye Nallius," Vergil said quietly. The heavy blade swung down on Nallius. When everything was done, she lay in several bloody pieces. Vali had demanded she be cut up, if only to further amuse her. He had done all as Vali commanded till Nallius's blood lay thick in the air. In the back of his mind he knew Nallius had deserved better. She would have preferred to go down fighting rather than to be slaughtered like a common sow. It was just one more reason Vali couldn't catch wind of Lauren.


	59. 3 Months Latter

Ohkay! Sorry for the slow update, i know i said i'd update this weekend. But! I have an excuse! Here it is: If my school work and jobwere to suddenly turn into a opossom it would be one-eyed, three legged, and have a nasty case of rabies. That means that the opossom then flew at my face and proceeded to try to eat my brains. To recap: homework and a job equals no brains and a lot of rabies shots. Leaving less time for anything else. Therefore, enjoy the new chapters, and don't mind the hissing opossom. I've named him Freddie and he's just foaming at the mouth because he's happy to see you. lol jk But really, enjoy!

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**Lauren-3 Months Latter...**

"Ooomph!" I sucked in a last wheeze of breath before Trish's fist came out of my gut. Ow, sucker punched, that was cheap. Quickly I bring up my elbow hard enough to break her nose. The bones and cartilage make a gross snapping sound. Jumping away as space, Trish regards me, wiping the blood away from her already healed nose with the back of her hand. Her eyes are dancing. I bet she getting a kick out me trying to re-grow my squished insides. Half demons…the odds are not stacked in your favor when you fight them.

So far, things where going hunky dory. The fighting was anyways, filing was hell on earth. It's been about three months since Vergil dropped me here like a dead weight, and I've learned a lot. Aura use, that was a bitch to master, but at least the black markings where gone. Not to mention I can now do this little nifty trick where I infuse power from my aura into my fighting technique. That's how I was able to break Trish's nose. Second thing I learned, demons are built Ford tough. Shocking, I know. Still, in relation to aura use, that means half demons don't get broken bones unless they got pounded with a fist full of aura anger. And even with that I'm still getting my ass handed to me. When all was said and done, mastering aura use has made fighting that much better. Even if the black markings came out when I used my aura.

"You seriously don't want to file do you?" Trish asked, amused.

"You know how many paper cuts I have?" I demanded, still trying to catch my breath. "I want a damn day off." Not to mention Dante and Trish don't file, have never filed, and going through their paperwork is heinously disturbing. Disturbing as in I stumbled across the land deed for someplace that was dated back nearly a hundred or so years, to someone named Eva Sparda. That was all it said, Eva Sparda. I didn't even bother asking Dante, I had a feeling he wouldn't tell. There were literally _years_ of tax forms that had piled up in random-no-sense-what-so-ever paper globs. Sorting all these stupid forms out usually sends me into a flying rage or puts me to sleep, usually both reactions are aided by many, many bottles of vodka, or Jacks, which ever I get my hands on first. It's the only thing that can even tempt me into filing. Just the thought of having to face paperwork makes me want to kill that stupid filing cabinet with a bazooka.

"Knock me on my ass and it's yours," Trish replied easily. Well, she asked me to…why pass up an invitation like that? Trish and I practically redefine the meaning of bitch fight. Though watching Trish kick Lucia's ass had been hysterically funny. I was still laughing after Lucia knifed me six different times. Seriously, have you ever see a red head, a grown _woman_, literally fly into a tree for protection?

As I ran towards her, Trish threw the Sparda sword at me, the only one she ever fights with. I've never quite figured out how that works, the way it goes end over end. Pausing for a moment, I drew agni and knocked the sword aside before continuing my charge. Smirking, Trish let her electric aura pool and crackle between her hands in it's most visible form…

Reeling I turned and knocked the sparda sword aside for a final time as it made it's murderous return journey. The blade became embedded into the ground nearby. Good riddance. Get nailed in the back of the head with that thing once and you don't forget it makes a return trip. Hell, it still feel like that blade is brain hemorrhaging me every once in a while.

I turned just in time for Trish to make me dance the violent violin as she riddled the space I had occupied with aura 'bullets'. Jumping, I unsheathed Rudra. Placing the blades beneath my feet, I infused them with my aura, making an efficient shield for Trish's attacks. Of course she was out of reach by the time I landed. A single kick and she had disarmed me. That's the way Trish likes it. Mono y mono, fist for fist, and blood, guts, and gore usually follow. I think I'm starting to figure out her fighting style somewhat, though that doesn't account for much.

So far only Dante has actually made me use all six something of the fighting styles I've mastered. There's something to be said growing up with a group of experienced bar bouncers. I may have even surprised Dante when I pulled the capoeria style on him. It hadn't helped, but just knowing I had managed to surprise Dante even for a fraction of a second was worth its weight in gold. Or cigarettes, take your pick. Just as Trish pulled back an aura filled fist I upswept my foot, cutting her move off short. I let my heel drop onto her shoulder, the momentum knocked her flat on her ass.

"I win," I blew her a kiss, winking. It was one of Trish's favorite finishing touches when winning a battle. She watched me, raising an eyebrow.

"You're doing it wrong," She replied coolly, standing up. I snorted watching her. She just didn't want to admit she had to file now. Chuckling she regarded me after a moment as she brushed the dust off her pants. "It's about time you won."

"I'll say," Agni grumbled.

"Shut it or I flush you," I told him sweetly. I was lucky Rudra had let it slip that Agni was deathly afraid of water. Who would have guessed? Either way I was getting more quiet time as a result. And a day with no filing. My hands are already grateful. I may have cut meat balls out of my hands at one point. Huh…now here's a thought. Dante's should use his tax forms as weapons. I can already envision the demons running for the hills. I shrugged at Trish, smirking slightly, "I want to wiggle my fingers with out pain."

"Whatever," Trish rolled her eyes, her hand already on Sparda sword's hilt. "Have a nice day off, _slacker_."

"Oh I will," I replied sweetly, "secretary." First thing I'm doing is getting a pack of cigarettes. The only thing Dante and Trish were strict on was cigarettes. I'm starting to think it's the smell. It would explain Verigl's reaction a little better, though Dante and Trish are some what more realistic about smoking than he is. And I mean realistic as in not anal. I get as many cigs as I want, so long as I don't smoke inside. If half demons got better everything, maybe a better nose wasn't necessarily a bonus. All I have to do to get some alone time is light up. Convenient, eh? "Later Trish, I'll be back whenever." Trish didn't bother to reply as she ripped Sparda sword out of the earth. Turning I headed back to DNC.

There was an actual reason I had wanted the day off. I got a call from Boss Joe, he sounded pretty pissed. Looks like I'll be trying to find a new job pretty soon. Can't say I'll actually miss working at that hell hole, and I sure as hell won't miss the French maid outfits and the groping they seem to attract, but it's still another job I got fired from. I think the tally is up to thirty something now. Damn Order. And Verigl, I blame him for this. I seriously don't think the Order would have found me if it hadn't been for him. It _was_ all interconnected, I just hadn't quite figured out _how_ yet. And speaking of the devil, where the hell is Vergil? Not that I particularly care, but still…I kinda want to fight him again. See if I can last a bit longer this time around. Maybe grind his smirking face into the freaking ground with my new combat boots for starters.

Ah well, might as well visit Tiffany and Josh before I go to Sloppy Joe's. Tiffany probably thinks I've dropped off the edge of the planet. It's been awhile, I should see how far along she is. I shrugged on my jacket, the black trench coat I'd abandoned at the drycleaners for half the year. I stopped wearing it around Vergil after my denim jacket was decimated by marionettes. It hides my gauntlets and knife pretty nicely, I was leaving the talking demonic swords though I was tempted to bring them on the subway. Then again maybe not. After what the Order did, I'm not taking any chances. It's only a matter of time before Linda finds me again.

**Dante and Trish**

"She's out for a day or so," Trish commented. "Funny how she seems to put more effort into it when there's something she wants hanging on the outcome." She was filing at her own desk, it really wasn't a fun. Strangely enough, Dante always seemed to find a way to weasel out of it. Trish was starting to think that perhaps he had trained Lor a little to well. Her speed had actually taken Trish off guard earlier that day. Though to be honest, her aura control was vastly better than what it had been. She no longer felt as if she was swimming in another demon's aura whenever Lor was around.

"Mmm." He was at his desk, studying something or another he found interesting. Something he'd obtained on a job earlier that day. A quickie purification of a church, nothing too serious.

"I can't believe I lost," she groaned as a sheet of paper neatly sliced open the tender flesh between her thumb and pointer finger. She was an inch from single handedly destroying the filing cabinet altogether. Sighing, Trish tapped a stack of papers on the desk, straitening them out. She had to wonder how drinking booze had helped Lor accomplish this task.

"Check this out," Dante drew her attention. Looking over, she saw the small black thing writhing back and forth, impaled to the desk with a small dagger.

"What is it?" She poked it with a finger. Dante leaned back, watching her with amused eyes. The small dark tentacle quickly wrapped itself around her finger. Tightening, it began to violently leech away at her aura, visibly growing as it did so. Annoyed she pulled her hand away. "Nasty little thing," she commented, giving him a dirty look. The finger felt numb when she wiggled it.

"Dunno," Dante replied indifferently. "Something new."

"New demons?" Trish gave him a disbelieving look as she returned to filing. "They haven't created new demons in hell since you took out Mundus." Dante said nothing. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows. Outside birds could be heard. A drop of sweat wound it's way down Trish's back. Why was she _doing_ this? How could she lose to a human so easily? Trish slammed the file door close, irritated. It was still sounding like a good idea to burn the damn thing.

"She's not human." Trish straitened as the news sunk in. She turned to Dante.

"What?" He was three inches away. Slowly he wrapped his hands around her waist.

"She's not human," he whispered drawing her close. His mouth closed over the skin on her neck. Appalled, Trish ignored his advance.

"What do you mean?" she asked, easing Dante back. He looked her in the eye, not smiling. The look in his eyes was impassive. No hint of the cocky arrogant, easy going demon she knew. No hint of his oh-so-human soul she secretly cherished and coveted. When he was serious was the only time he looked as soulless as all other demons. He was perhaps, as serious as he had been when she'd forced him to say something rather particular once. Only that time, she had given him a black eye and was holding him down with a solid foot resting ever so gently on a certain selected body part.

"A construct."

"What?" Trish asked quietly. She took a step back, slowly sinking to sit on the top of her desk. He watched her without moving, allowing her to absorb the information on her own. A construct. A _human_ construct? What Trish herself was? Lor, the little key to god, she wasn't human. She was created and lived as a human, but was never and had never been human. Not once. A higher being forced to be reincarnated as a human. She didn't understand why she found it as such a shock, it must have been done for the 'greater good'. Trish too had once been a 'higher' being, and she had willingly chosen to become part human. Choice made all the difference sometimes.

"How is that possible?" Trish demanded. The implications sent her mind reeling… Dante just shrugged, his eyes losing their seriousness.

"Who cares? I just thought you'd find it interesting," he turned and headed into to the kitchen carelessly. Trish watched his retreating back annoyed. Grabbing another can, he cracked open the beer smirking at her. Shaking her head, Trish threw him the motorcycle keys that had been resting on her desk. He caught the hurtling bullet gracefully, never spilling a drop of his precious alcohol.

"Ready for round ten?" she asked him coolly.

"What are we wagering this time?" Trish felt her mouth being drawn into a smirk. It would be nice to win at least once today.

"Hmm," she tapped her lip playfully with a dainty finger. "So many choices."


	60. Family Matters 2

Credit to where it goes, song lyrics by link'n park.

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**Tiffany and Josh**

"Why are you so adamant?" Josh asked, slightly annoyed.

"Because she's unstable Josh," Tiffany snapped. "I can't believe Volt just handed over her things like that. Even after I told him what happened."

"It shouldn't have been you to tell him in the first place," Josh interrupted her gently. "What happened, happened to _Lor_, not you. It was her story to tell and hers to keep, not yours."

"What was I suppose to do? She was in a coma! And before that she was…" At this point, even Tiffany couldn't quite seem to find the words.

"She was employed to the fey, Tiffany," Josh patiently tried to explain. "She wanted justice, not servitude and disillusionment. Lor had no way of knowing things would have ended up the way it did," he took his wife's hands into his own, stilling their frantic movement. She was trying to cook, as she always did when she was upset. The food she made tasted horrible when she was this distracted. Though he supposed it was better than her trying to get a candle lit.

"No way of knowing? Who did she think was supported the Duragon Corporation? She knew the Duragon goons were Sion's enemies. She should have known they were doing what they were, simply to trap her."

"She's younger than you," Josh reminded her. "Sion wouldn't have told Lor something that would have terrified her any further past what she was when they first found the two of you. They may have told you, but I seriously doubt they ever told Lor."

"That's not the point," Tiffany snapped taking her hands from his. Turning she brushed past him, going to the oven as the timer went off.

"Then what is?" he turned to face her. Tiffany could be difficult when she was this agitated. Her concern had a tendency to make her blind to the needs of others, as odd as that sounded. She loved Lor, he knew it, but she hadn't quite found a way show Lor that. Other than burning her to a crisp anyways.

"Josh, she shouldn't be on her own. She should be talking to a therapist, not learning how fight demons. She still hasn't recovered from Sion and Dominique dieing. Those half demons do something to her and I don't know how she'll recover from it." Tiffany pulled out the pan and set it on the oven top before facing him.

"And she should have recovered?" Josh asked. "She watched both her adopted parents die, right in front of her eyes. You think she should somehow be able to walk away from that unaffected?"

"Stop twisting my words," his wife snapped, crossing her arms. "They were my parents too. You know what she was like before we found her in the hospital. She couldn't remember where she'd been or what she'd been doing half the time. She was out all hours of the night, not coming back home for days on end. She continually wore black. She broke her hand and wasn't even aware of it until we brought her into a clinic. She didn't even remember _how_ it happened."

"Her memory lapsed once," Josh sighed warily. "And that was immediately after she woke up from the coma. I don't think you trying to control her life for the past year hasn't helped anyone. Lor's not as fragile and weak as you think she is. She doesn't need you to baby-sit her anymore."

"She wanted _revenge_ Josh, not justice," Tiffany nearly yelled. "She can't take care of herself, and I don't want to be the one who has to pick up the pieces again. I've _done_ that, for my entire life!"

"I'm not going to speak with you on this matter further until you calm down," Josh replied levelly. Tiffany was beyond seething, if he provoked any more emotion, she would undoubtedly end up burning their house down. Quietly he left her to bang her pots and pans as she fumed. The house was filled with her emotion, making it almost impossible to breath. Josh grinned wryly as the banging intensified. She would think about what he said, he knew. Perhaps the most the quality he loved most in Tiffany was her passion, in every matter she took up. However, her passion was not being an asset today. Easily, he pushed open the screen door to the front porch, and came to a halt. Noisily the door slammed shut behind him as his face emptied.

Lor sat on the front stoop, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked like a small shadow sitting there on the white concrete. Instinctively he knew she had heard. Had heard everything. Behind him the pots and pans banged, accompanied by the occasional swearing bout. Quietly he took a seat next to her. She didn't say anything, the cigarette in her hand was nearing the filter, close to burning the flesh.

"She didn't mean it," he said quietly. Lor snorted, not saying anything. She knew a lie when she heard one. After what the fey had done, she would know a lie when she heard one. "She didn't mean it like that," he amended.

"She sounded pretty damn convinced from where I'm sitting," Lor replied after a moment. She ground out the cigarette on the step. "Not that I make a point of eavesdropping," she added sighing. Easily she stood up.

"Lor?" Josh watched her with carefully. She turned to him, face blank. It was as if time had been rewound by a year, her eyes looked as dead as they had been then. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was." She gave him a dirty look then, anger flashing in her eyes. In that instant he felt what the Order had made of her. The black scrollings all Fallens possessed, not the white holy ones he'd been stripped of, flared to life on her skin for a moment. They disappeared as quickly as they had popped up. He was reminded then, of how volatile Lor was. It would be unwise to push her any more than it would be his wife.

"Why the hell do you care?" She shook her head, reaching for another cigarette. "In case you didn't notice, nobody gives a fuck what you think." Lor paused to light up before continuing. "She still blames me."

"She blames herself Lor," he answered softly, "Not you."

"Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass, you'd realize she'll never forgive me for killing Dominique," Lor replied gruffly. She turned to leave. "I know I have. Do me a favor and take care of her. She needs it more than I do."

"I'll try." She wasn't listening however. Or she didn't care by then, he could never tell with her. He watched her walk off, black coat billowing in the gusty autumn breeze. Sighing, Josh stood as well. Turning he realized the swearing and pots had gone quiet.

Pulling the door open, Josh's heart nearly stopped. Tiffany was laying on her back, moaning. Her water had broke. His mind was reeling. Lor's scrolling had come to life, even for the briefest amount of time. His child…it was…he wasn't sure what he was going to do. His child, being born in so close to the key…did that mean what he thought it meant? No…it _couldn't_…could it?

"Josh," she whispered quietly, pain making her voice light and airy. It was enough to stun him into movement, he was her husband before he was an angel. Kneeling next to her, he summoned what was left of his grace. The scrollings writhed to life, the black wings unfurled, reaching their largest span. The transition was painful, but his concern overshadowed it.

"I don't think we'll make it on time by car," Tiffany gasped. Already, her face was pale.

"Demons aren't the only ones who can bend the barrier between the worlds to serve their purposes," He replied, carefully taking her into his arm. His conversation with Lor came to him then, as he stood. He wondered for a minute if Lor had known what was happening, '…_take care of her_. _She needs it more than I do_'. Lor knew, at whatever level of subconscious that which dwelled inside of her was buried at, what it was that Tiffany was carrying. It had taken him eight months to finally realize what it was. He would give his life to protect his family from the angels. Easily he reached for the barrier with his aura, this family event would be difficult on both of them. "Trust in me Tiffany, I'll protect you."


	61. The Last Sloppy Joe

**Lauren**

What a shitty day. It had started okay…but I had feeling it was only going to get worse. Hell it's practically the eighth month anniversary since Vergil walked into Joe's and sent the monkey wrench flying into the works. I should have known it was going to be one of those days. Dammit, I just can't win anywhere. I haven't felt this miserable since Sion died. Tiffany had practically disowned me. Actually, technically she did just disown me. Wow…I think I need to puke. If I did it all over Boss Joe's disgusting piggy face, it just might make me feel better.

Like usual nothing had changed at Sloppy Joe's. Everything was still annoyingly over the top cherry and cheap 70's green plastic and linoleum. Oh god, how could I forget how much I hated this place? Well, at least I didn't work here anymore. That was a bonus. The minute I step in the place, Joe was on my ass.

"In my office," Joe told me tightly. "Now." I'm wondering if I can bitch slap Joe before getting fired. Mmm…I think I better wait until I get my last paycheck. Might help pay for the resulting law suit.

"You called?" I ask mildly, pulling out a cigarette as I take a seat. The chair is one of those fuchsia pink seventy chairs and the plastic creaks as I settle back. It's uncomfortable as hell. I light up as Joe closes the door and takes a seat at his desk. He glares at me disapproving as he sits in his leather rolling chair.

"There's a situation," he starts, catching my attention. I snort. No shit Sherlock, you're firing me. His sniffs disapprovingly, waving the smoke away. "Please put out the cigarette so we can discuss this Lor."

"Discuss what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I do not put out my cigarette. Hell, I _refuse _to, he's not my boss anymore. Instead I choose to exhale smoke in his direction. If I going to get fired, I might as well go out in style.

"Lor, you're unexplained absence for the last three months is inexcusable," Boss starts, trying to ignore the smoke. Already his face was turning red. I felt myself smirking. Inexcusable like when the Order was cutting me into pieces? Or when demons started randomly popping up in my life? Or a dhampire assassin sent by Linda walked through the front doors to this place? What a fucking ass.

"Is it?" I ask carelessly, tilting my head to study his reddening face. I wonder if he'll have a heart attack before or after he fires me. A dollar and a pack of cigarettes says before. Hmm…now that's something to shoot for…

"Lor," he starts, his voice holding the dangerous edge. Usually when he used that voice, I'd at least pretend to give a shit. However losing my job no longer bothers me. Having fucking things in my body and the fey collecting my head, that _bothers_ me. Being disowned by my family, that _upsets_ me. Killing demons? That's a rush. Losing a pain in the ass job I never liked to begin with? I think Joe needs a reality check. This job is so…peon. The funny thing is he's rolling out the pity wagon, like I actually _cared_ about losing this job at one point in time. Joe's face is turning a darker hue of red now, he must want that heart attack more than I do. No wonder Vergil likes pissing me off so much, it's funny as hell to watch.

"Joe," I reply sweetly. His face is a nasty purple color now, and his piggy eyes are staring at me. I see him start to puff up, he's getting ready to enjoy firing me. Nice to know the feeling is mutual.

"Lor," he says sternly, "I'm sorry but I have to let you go."

"Go?" I ask, forcing my eyes to go wide and my voice to sound softly confused. That idiot, he's staring at me like I'm serious. "Where are we going? I just got back didn't I?" He catches on finally, his dull piggy eyes sharpen. Jesus that's the oldest one in the book. I laugh.

"That's enough," he snaps. Disgusted he tosses me a piece of paper. It's my last paycheck. Hm…not bad, I might even be able to get drunk on this. Shrugging I stuff the paper in my pocket.

"So where are going?" I asked, considering. "I have dibs for Maui."

"Get out of my office before I call the cops on you for civil disruption," he snarls. Joe doesn't put up with that 'disrespectful hooligan crap'. Who hell does he think he is? Fuck him, he isn't my father. He's really asked for this.

"Go fuck yourself, you disgusting, fatassed, slob mother fucker," I replied easily, getting up from the chair. I grind my cigarette out on his desk before heading to the door. He nearly strangles on his own breath. I don't think anyone's ever exactly told boss Joe what they think of him. And with his solid 320 pounds, I think I know why. Whatever, I could kick his ass easy. "Oh and by the way," I add, turning to him as I open the door of his office. His hand is already on his desk telephone. "Before you call the police you might want to consider what a phone call to your wife in regards to your affair with a certain employee might do to your establishment's reputation." Joe stares at me dumbfounded his mouth hanging open. "I hear divorce can be pretty ugly," I tell him sweetly. And there's my coup de tat. Ah black mail, how I love thee.

He seriously didn't think anyone noticed when Jessica not so mysteriously 'disappeared' while on extended 'breaks'? Funny how she was always more tired afterwards. Not to mention they were about as quiet as a herd of stampeding soccer moms. I snigger. I told you Jessica has no head for relationships. Never thought it would benefit me though. Laughing I leave the place. Maybe today isn't quiet as bad as I thought it would be.

I'm a block from Joe's when I smell it. That sweet, sweet evanescent smell that just barely lingers on your tongue.A slight whiff of it is almost enough to send me into seizures. Bloody hell, _today_? _Now_? I just lit my fucking cigarette. Casually I put my lighter away as I walk down the mid-day city sidewalk. I move my hands past the inside pocked until my fingers touch the hilt of my knife.

What the hell do the fey want now? They're timing sucks balloons. I was wondering why the weekly assassination attempts had stopped. I thought maybe it was because I was staying at Dante's place, but apparently that's not the reason. That throws the theory of Linda suddenly developing brain damage out the window. I feel their eyes on me, boring into my back. They must be envious of my new combat boots. There's more than one of them this time, from the feel of it, they've upped their numbers. I'd know fey magic anywhere, that shit leaves it's mark on you. What kind of assassins is she sending after me now? They're so…_sloppy_. I actually know they're behind me. Seriously, where's the effort? I'm insulted.

Turning, I head down a back ally. If I'm going to get in a fight, I want to be in a place where I have the advantage. An ally will make it hard for multiple opponents to attack at the same time. Or that's the idea anyways. I wait till I'm half way down the ally before stopping. I grind my cigarette out on the brick wall, sighing. Another one of god's cancerous gifts to humanity goes to waste.

"For an assassin, you've really lost your touch," I say. "Quite being a fucking pansy and get your ass out here." It takes him a minute but eventually he shows himself. I can hear his foot steps heavy on the pavement behind me.

"Black Lauren." That goddamning name. No one should use that goddamning name.

"Fuck you," I snap annoyed, turning to face him. _No one_ should call me by my first name, especially if they're going to add the fucking color black to it. He's wearing a long sweeping jacket, strait up black, like me. And like me, he wears iron piercings, the lip ring's a new though. I wonder what Linda did to make him go as far as piercing his mouth for protection from her. It's Aaron, his sandy hair and serious demeanor hasn't changed. He still wears those stupid black knit hats too. I thought she'd send him after me. Linda's sense of 'humor' isn't completely lost to me. The fucking sadistic bitch. "I'm not going back and I never fucking will," I tell him flatly. How many times have I told him this? Oh yeah, around 106 now. The scars on his neck from the last time we fought are pretty ugly and vivid still.

"It's not your choice," another voice calls out. It's haughty, and _young_. I think it's the reason I knew they were following me. It's a new voice I've never heard before. Turning I eye the auburn. Hell she looks like she's only fourteen. Beside her Marcus stands, his face silent and menacing. He too has scars from fighting me.

"And who the hell is she?" I demand, turning to Aaron.

"Sara," Aaron replies flatly.

"Don't tell her my fucking _name_," Sara snarls, her hands giving away the fact that she's carrying daggers. What a green horn. I suppose I should be thanking the fact that she's smart enough to know what I can do with her name.

"Wow, Linda must really be running low on help these days," I comment dryly, eyeing her.

"Hey who do you think you-" Sara starts. Marcus shuts her up with an experienced needle in her neck, squeezing out a nearly insignificant amount of blitz. I can smell the dark liquid as hauntingly real as Sara getting high. It makes my head ache at the very memory of it. Christ, she's only fourteen and she's blitzing. I smell the sweet toxic fey magic permeate her body, like cotton candy and sweetened liquor. Her eyes turn a watery hollow black color as the blitz takes hold. What a shame, her eyes are pretty.

"Now what?" I ask mildly as Marcus gently leads Sara over to a wall and helps her sit down. She'll sit there too, until the blitz wears off or until Marcus comes and gets her again. A life on blitz is no life. I finger my lighter, but decide against a smoke.

"Now you come with us Captain," Aaron replies.

"I'm not going back," I repeat flatly. That would 107…I'll be damned if they're going to make me go back there. Where the hell is Vergil when I freaking need him? He has to be the crappiest partner I've ever been forced to work with.

"Unfortunately, Captain, you are." Right, sure I am. I'm the first to attack. I catch Aaron in the chest with a strait leg kick. It barely fazes him, even with my aura adding to the attack. I can hear several of his ribs crack as he catches my foot in an iron grip. Oh shit, they're blitzing, all _three_ of them. Shit, shit, shit, how did I fucking miss that? He twists my foot until the muscles and bones crack nastily. I grind my teeth together to keep myself from screaming a fifteen syllable obscenity at Aaron. Fucking blitz. Apparently, Aaron learned from our last encounter.

The pain is excruciating when he drops my foot, his face completely emotionless. I reach for my blade, but it's too late. As I stumble, leaning against the brick wall for support, Marcus back hands me, his eyes as emotionless as Aaron's. He hits me _hard_. Hell, he knew exactly where to aim. Linda would have finally told them. My left temple explodes and blackness takes over my vision. Fuck. That hurts.


	62. Club Pandora

**The Blackgaurd**

"Why did do that?" Sara demanded. "I could have taken her! You saw the way she reacted, even a little blitz and she freaked out! Why didn't you let me fight her! You were blitzing. Why didn't-"

"Stop complaining Sara," Aaron sighed. "I ordered Marcus to blitz you before hand."

"What!" Sara looked to her older brother, shocked first and then angry. She looked to Marcus's dark face and then back to her older brother's. Her mouth was already open.

"She's the Blackguard Captain, Sara," Aaron explained warily, cutting off her retort. "When she was at the fey courts she was the thing that gave them nightmares. Queen Linda sent her after five fey royalty." Aaron paused for a minute to give his sister a hard glare. "They disappeared Sara, not even the fey know what Captain Lauren did to them or where to look for the bodies. They called her the Black Rose, or Black Lauren, for a reason. If Linda sent her after you, then you were as good as dead."

"So?" Sara asked stubbornly. "I've killed fey before."

"She's killed five _Royal_ fey, Sara, not five common fey. You come no where near in skill to her."

"If she's go great, why did she run away?" Sara demanded. "She can't be that great if she ran away."

"She didn't use Blitz to kill those fey," Aaron replied after a few minutes. "Never once. She didn't need blitz to get to them."

"_What_?" Sara sighed after a moment, rolling her eyes. "You're lying. You guys never tell me the truth."

"That is the truth," Marcus answered quietly. "Captain Lauren was anti-blitzing. All the blackguards were when she was Captain. That was a good time for the blackguards, no one died from blitz attacks." Sara was quiet for perhaps the first time since coming out of her blitz induced high. She was staring at Marcus wide eyed. She had never heard him speak before, Aaron realized, mentally wincing. He hoped she didn't ask any stupid questions. Marcus stared back at Sara levelly, shifting the weight of the Captain whom he was carrying. They'd healed her with a green star. Linda had been specific that the Captain's injuries where to be fully healed before her majesty took to breaking her. She had compared it to painting a masterpiece on a blank canvas, Aaron thought bitterly, like humans were objects, not beings.

"Black Lauren left the courts because she learned of something Queen Linda wished to remain secret. By then Linda was as drunk on power as she is now, she underestimated the Captain. When Lauren left, she killed three of the queen's favored lovers. They also happened to be part of the royal guard." At the time, Linda was still enticed by other fey flesh. That however, had changed the minute Lauren had left. Linda wanted all humans to suffer if she couldn't make the human who had hurt her pride suffer. Aaron still winced at the memory of it.

"She killed three of the queen's royal guards? Which ones?" Sara asked wide eyed.

"Raven's Birth, Helmicus, and Blood Rue," Aaron replied flatly. Sara's mouth dropped open.

"Really?" She glanced over to the unconscious human Marcus carried on his back. Her eyes were excited when they found her brother's face again. "Why did she do that? What did she learn about that made her so angry?" Aaron glanced over at his little sister. She had joined the blackguard to help pay off the debt their family owed the fey. Had he a say in the matter, Sara wouldn't be anywhere near the courts or addicted to blitz. She would be on a plane joining the rest of the family in Canada far, far away from the court that so completely dominated his existence. It was only a matter of time before Linda's life mate, Dallicus took notice of Sara. The last thing Aaron wanted was his little fourteen year old sister to join Dallicus's private harem. Aaron didn't know what he would do if that eventuality ever came to pass, most likely pull a stunt Black Lauren had pulled, or die in the process anyways.

"You'll have to ask her when she gets up," Marcus replied, when Aaron didn't respond. "The Captain and the Queen are the only ones left that know."

**Lucia and Rayne**

Lucia sighed. Today was a blue day, just another blue jeans, jean jacket, white shirt type of day…a blue and boring day. She hadn't even run into any stray marionettes in a while. Lucia wandered down the darkening city street. Where was she anyways? She looked around, coming back to herself, her nose twitching. She was outside of a fairly large complex that reeked of the light dusty fairy smell. The humans gathered around it were your standard punk whiners, too. The type Lucia hated the most, the satanic wanna-bes. The ones that usually ran away screaming the moment any thing hell related popped up. Why so many in one place?

Intrigued, Lucia slipped into the crush of humans headed inside. Most of them gave her no notice. They where like zombies, shuffling along at a snail's pace. It was a show, she gathered from the assorted conversations, the few that there were. The place was Pandora's Box, she'd heard of it, but she never thought getting into club with such a reputation would be so damning easy.

Inside the building was a haven of the fey, Lucia had never seen so many fey and humans mingling togetherin one place. Many of the fey held humans on leashes, as if they were pets. There other things Lucia saw as well, things she didn't care to watch to closely. Slowly Lucia realized she had stumbled into the fabled inner city darkling fey court. Her hand eased it's way to the hidden daggers. The smell of booze and sweat was thick on the air, along with the heavy scent of magic. What were so many humans doing here in a place like this? Didn't they know what was happening? Many humans, the unchained ones, moshed to a fey band, unwilling, or even unable to stop dancing. Lucia pushed her way through the crowd, warily, it wouldn't do to let the fey bespell her. She had no idea what she was looking for, but the magic surrounding her was getting faint, just enough hung in the air, teasing her senses. How had she missed this? How had Dante? It was right here in the city. Lucia wrinkled her nose. It smelled strong enough… Suddenly a hand clamped down on her arm. Annoyed Lucia pulled her arm away from the human cling on. She ended up pulling Rayne closer to her through the crowd.

"What are you doing here?" Lucia demanded, annoyed. Since when did the fey and the undead join forces?

"After hour fun, not to mention its day," Rayne replied flatly. "I see you've found your way here by the smell as well." The crowd pressed the two women closer to each other. "You should come with me. There's something here that might interest you," Rayne whispered in Lucia's ear, her voice a ghost in the pounding techno mix.

"And what might that be?" Lucian snapped, pulling away as much as the surrounding crowd would let her. Rayne followed her. Gently she traced Lucia's jaw line with her finger tip.

"The heart, sweetblood, the fey have the heart."

"Rayne," Lucia's eyes widened. "Is that who I think it is?" Turning Rayne followed Lucia's line of vision. Rayne stared Lucia in the eye. Slowly she smirked as both her arm blades swung forward.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking sweet blood?" Rayne asked.

"Might as well," Lucia replied reaching for the hidden daggers. "I've always wondered why the fey like humans so much."

"They don't," Rayne replied raising an eyebrow. "Humans are just easier to seduce. They require less magic."

"Ah," Lucia commented. She knew the fey were interested in technology, they practically ran ever major electronics firm from coast to coast. Even on some small islands where doctors experimented with souls and demonic influences. They financially supported scientists like that, scientists like Arius had been. Anybody and anything that was willing to produce that costly substance 'blitz' in mass quantities. Lucia didn't doubt the pure undiluted liquid magic would seduce most humans. Hell a human could over dose on blitz. Lucia had a feeling she would enjoy killing some fey today. She turned to the dhampire. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Rayne agreed smirking. Easily the two picked their way through the crowded room, moving slowly. Rayne felt her fangs growing in anticipation. Fey blood…now there was a treat she hadn't had in a while.


	63. Biltz

**Lauren**

Pandora's Box, a place of illusion and disillusionment. Of color, sound, pain, suffering, smoke, rock bands, magic, mirrors, drugs, alcohol, drag queens, slavery, and my personal favorite, hate. The hottest night club in the city, it's always bouncing and every fantasy you have, every desire and wish, it can come true. It all comes down to how much you're willing to pay. Pandora's Box is a kaleidoscope that never stops spinning, never stops moving, never stops churning or twirling. It's a self satisfying machine that continues the cycle over and over again. It makes my head pound in time to the 1812 overture.

It's also the hotbed for all fey activity in the city and neighboring suburbs. I knew I was in her office before I opened my eyes. The air smelled like concrete with the subtle hint of magic. Nice to know she's finally stopped underestimating me. It only took her three years.

"Hello my pretty little Rose," her voice was soft and chiding. Groaning I sat up. They had dropped me on the floor in the middle of a constriction ring. Constriction rings, gotta love em, they keep your enemy effectively contained with in a small three foot wide circular area. The magic burned red white in the dim light as I stood up. Figures, Aaron and Marcus had healed my foot somehow, Linda must have ordered it. Today sucks. I blink through the haze, my left eye was kaput for the time being it seemed. I just barely made out the image of Linda through the glare of the magic, sitting on a metal stool, dress up like the business whore she was. There's no way in hell I'm leaving now, at least not alive and certainly not unless Linda gives me 'permission' to leave the ring. Fuck, let's face it, the way today has been going, Vergil wearing a purple spandex body suit is more likely to occur than me leaving this place. After a year, Linda finally has me right where she wants me. I don't doubt she'll do her best to make me pay for every hour of the year I missed.

"Your glamour looks like crap," I retort. She's wearing blond hair. I liked the neon rainbow I saw her wearing last time, the insanity on the outside matched the inside. I reach for my pack, my fingers brush over the tip of the knife hilt. Aaron let me keep that? …Why?

"Does this please you?" she asked smirking. Slowly her facial features dissolve into a blurry mass until I was looking at a mirror image of myself. Cute. Real cute.

"Sorry, but they broke the mold when they made me," I comment flatly, lighting up. "And you got my ass about three sizes to big." Her cocktail laughter sounded like chiming bells from hell.

"Ah Lauren , my pet, how I've missed you."

"I'm not your fucking pet," I snapped coldly. That was dumb, very dumb. Losing my cool around Linda was like giving her an invitation into my head. If she knew I was particularly pissed about something, she'd want to know why. Not she needs a reason to be a bitch. I don't feel like having her poke at my brain in a jar like science McGee.

"But you're my Black Guard Captain," she responded unperturbed. Her voice was coaxing. She was still wearing my face. Identity thief. "You've been neglecting your duties."

"What's wrong Linda? Can't control your court with out little ol' human me to keep your subjects in line?"

"Why did you kill my favorite lovers when you left?" Linda replied, answering my question with one of her own.

"Why are you a homicidal bitch?" I asked flatly.

"I offered you Aaron's life," she replied seriously. "Instead you took the lives of three of my favorites. Why?" She didn't understand. That's what made it so damning. She didn't understand a single fucking thing. The thing about the fey, though they are masters at manipulating humans through their emotions, but they don't actually understand what it was they manipulate. It took me a long time to realize and come to terms with that. That isn't to say the fey didn't feel, they simply don't understand raw human emotion and the thinking that drives it. It was the single thing that made me an unpredictable nemesis in Linda's eyes. …I was back stabbed by someone that shallow? I think I've just hit an all time low.

"You'll never understand and I'm never going to tell you," I replied evenly.

"On the contrary dear," Linda replied genially, her glamour falling away. "For what you've taken from me human, I will nail your dead corpse over my bed. But first I'd have to kill you, and before I do that I want your memories. I want your secrets. Whatever did you do to the family I sent you to kill? You're going to tell me Lauren." She leaned forward then into the light. The long acid scar the iron had burned into her skin completely marred her face. The hideous upraised welt extended from behind her ear, connecting to her mouth corner and then extended to the other ear. I had been trying to slit her throat at the time with the same iron knife I carry now. I guess if you're going to do something, you should do it right the first time. That had been one mistake that cost me roughly fifteen billion headaches. Give or take the ones Vergil induces. Linda is a fire and earth spirit, her skin is a rusty dun color and her teeth come to sharp pointed ends, like a shark's. To say she's ugly with the scar would be an understatement.

"Whatever," I grumble. She hadn't been that pretty to start with.

"In fact," Linda continued, ignoring me, "I think you're going to tell me a good deal. Blitz makes even the mute speak." Oh god…she was going to blitz me. I literally felt the blood draining from my face.

"Fuck you," I snap, pulling out my knife. Linda eyed me, amused.

"You would have taken up my offer once. Tell me, how much have you really changed my thorny rose?" Her mouth pulls into a smile that shows of her serrated teeth to their fullest. Discreetly she motioned to the waiting blackguards hiding in the room's shadows. I think she may have been the shark's stunt double in Jaws.

"Enough," I growl, "to have outgrown you." I eyed the black guards, falling into a defensive stance. It was enough to make them halt their silent advance. Warily they watched me. That's right bitches, eat my bluff. I have more of them than I do cigarettes.

"Why are you so obstinate against me Lauren?" Linda asks mildly, the shark smile still on her face. "I think perhaps you'll be more agreeable after I've shown you my new toy."

"Not likely," I reply quietly. My eyes never leave Linda's.

"Dallicus? My love? Lauren doesn't believe me," Linda calls softly, in a mock pouting voice. Her eyes looked hungry. I don't like this. Reluctantly I looked over to the door in the far corner. Oh look, a horse with two assholes just entered the room. If Cage was a slime there are no words for Dallicus. He enters the room dragging a resisting Sara behind him on a metal collar and chain. She had a black eye and already the thick collar was bruising her neck. Tears were in her eyes.

"Aaron!" Sara's eyes went wide as she spotted her brother. He didn't look much better, his face had gone completely slack. At least someone other than me was having a bad day. Dallicus yanked hard on the chain, pulling Sara on her butt as she tried to go to Aaron.

"Linda please," Aaron's voice was a strangled gasp, "don't do this. Not to Sara."

"Restrain him," Linda replied coolly. Immediately the blackguards surrounded Aaron and Marcus. They put up a good fight but it was ten to two. I almost felt sorry for them as they ate fist. Almost. Then I remembered I was here because of them...the jerks.

"Now," Linda turned to me, "let's see how much you've really changed Lauren." I smell a set up. I can't believe Aaron was stupid enough to let his little sister join the Blackgaurd. She's only fourteen. "Drop the knife Black Lauren, and the girl remains forever afar from both I and my life mate. On this matter, you would have my name rights. However," Linda paused smirking at me, "keep your knife and you can watch Dalicus and I play with our new toy." At that Sara's eyes went wide and she went still. Aaron almost broke free from the five holding him. I raised an eyebrow, studying Linda. This wasn't my problem, why should I help Aaron? What the hell had he done to actually help me?

"I see," Linda replied to my silence. Her voice was delighted the sick sob. Smirking Dallicus's hands were on Sara as he hefted her up. She started screaming then, and struggling, not that it made a difference. Dallicus began to carry her over to a bed in the corner of the room. Only a nympho like Linda would have a king sized bed in her office. _Goddammit_…_where the **hell** are you Vergil?_

"You're a fucking whore," I snapped at Linda.

"Thank you," she replied smugly. If she wants my knife so badly then I'll shove it up her ass.

"Go fetch like a good little bitch," I snarled at her. Turning I sent the small blade flying. The edge shallowly cut into Dallicus's left ass check before becoming embedded into the far wall. Dammit. The lack of vision in my left eye was messing with my aim. I had been aiming for his asshole. Something that large and I fucking missed. Today is not my day.

Turning Dallicus gave me a look of death, his face was entirely lit up with blitz. His skin glowed with the phosphorescent green liquid that humans injected with. It looked like toxic waste. I hope the bastard wouldn't be able to sit for the next two months. I gave him the finger. He'd rip my head off the next chance he got. So why am I smirking at the threat of future maiming? The fey must comply to all deals they make. Especially when name rites are invoked. The next thing I know Sara is flying through the air and I'm on my ass with a whimpering fourteen year old staring at me, wide eyed. Dammit, why am I helping Aaron? This isn't my fucking problem…

"_Get off_," I grunt. I think she just cracked a rib.

"Sara." Aaron's there, just outside of the constriction ring, his hand extended. "Come here." Sara stares at him speechless. She looks between me and Aaron. Aaron catches my eye. What the hell is he staring at? His sister's a freaking hippo.

"Get the hell off or I'm breaking your neck," I wheeze. Christ, what is this girl eating? Scrambling Sara goes to her brother. The chain and collar are removed and they leave the room. The remaining black guards don't make a move to stop them. They won't come back. I'm on my own now.

"I knew you hadn't changed," Linda's voice is honeyed sugar. Dallicus comes up behind her, handing her a needle of black liquid I recognize. Fuck me blindsided…liquid blitz… "A rose by any other name-"

"Will kick your ass just as hard," I growl. "Is there a word that describes how fucked up you are, you sick fucking nympho?"

"I'm not a nymph," Linda replies indifferently. "Does it bother you that I'm going to inject you with a lethal amount of blitz?"

"Go to hell," I snap. God I'm going to kick her fucking ass…if I live through this…

"In time, we will," she smiles at me with mini-needle teeth. I bet she makes babies cry for the fun of it. "And it is there I will leave you to go mad from blitz and pain. Maybe I'll even hear your screams as the demons slowly devour your flesh. I can think of one right now would pay a great deal for you. She so enjoyed your christening at Silent Hill." That fucking bitch. She's using my memories against me. I think I'm going to scream. The magic ring begins to shrink, closing in. It's a closterphobe's worst nightmare. It shrank until I couldn't move, effectively holding my feet and arms in place. Casually walking forward Linda yanked my waist line down until she exposed the small two inch scar on my right hip. It was the scar I'd gotten last time I'd blitzed. "Goodbye Lauren," Linda tells me serenely as she injects me with poison. She was acting like I was her fucking dog and she was putting me down.

"You need therapy," I snap. The blitz entered my system, spreading like Novocain. And like Novocain, it made me numb. Numb to the point that I passed out in two minutes flat. It was a familiar feeling that I dreaded. A shudder ran down my spine as the I felt my left eye begin to pound. Fuck…where are you Vergil?


	64. Gathering Black

**Vergil**

He knew she was in trouble…_again_…that damning human. He could actually _feel_ it this time. It would seem the side effects of maintaining discretion where catching up with him. Unfortunately Lauren would have to wait. Vergil clenched the amerhurst in his hand. The Queen knew. He didn't know how she knew, but she did. He had been aware she knew far more than he would wish the moment he entered dais, to stand at her side along with the other Generals. How _much_ she knew, well that was an entirely different matter.

Vali had been training her troops for the last several years. By now, maintaining them was all that was required to prod her cut throats to keep their blades sharp. Of course, maintaining the troops often meant round after round of battles for Vali's enjoyment. These last couple of months had been nothing more than pleasing the will of Vali, degrading and impossible as that was. However, the foot soldiers were satisfied if her majesty was satisfied. Most enjoyed the slaughter and bloodshed as much as their queen did, if not more, for they where base creatures. After 22 years of slaughter…well, there were only so many colors of red. And he was fairly certain he had seen them all. That aside no matter how well Vali trained them, they would never be more than mere foot soldiers. Their strength and skill would never be any match for himself, and anything less than a good match would always be a waste his of time. Needless to say the time he'd spent in hell for the last three months had been almost as annoying as Lauren could be. It would seem, however, he had very little time to spare. Caution would deem it necessary to move the chalice into further hiding now.

The conclave of hell's demons and alliances was being held. It would be interesting to say the least. Most of the Generals of hell could barely stand the sight of Vali's more favored court dwellers, the ones she saved for special errands and assassinations. The feeling was mutual for many of the demon fractions and any outsiders, if they had made to the conclave alive, were allies. There was no doubt in his mind that not even Vali would be able to keep order for long. Or perhaps she simply didn't intend to.

"You've all come," Vali's voice rang out from her thrown, "I'm pleased." As usual she wore white, a continual mockery of the greater powers of good that be. A hush fell over the usually ruckus and chaotic mass. One could see demons and other beings gathered for as far as the eye cared to view, in the dim sulfuric atmosphere of hell. "God has been reborn today," the queen of hell began, "as a young human." At that the mass dared to break it's silence, the screams and howls of disbelief were varied and many, however, few actually objected the truth to the queen's words. Without question, things had just gotten complicated. Vali raised her hand silencing them, and for once, they complied. Hell had order by Vali's hand. The way they played to her needs, it was disgusting.

"The very _fiend_ that placed you all here so very long ago, centuries and millennia, nay, _eons_, long past now, the righteous monster that dares condemn us for our very nature, to smite us with what they claimed was righteous wrath, and he is **_weak_**. I tell you now, he is human, nothing more then flesh and bone, and will die as easily as any other human will. Tell me do you want revenge?" Vali demanded. At that the fiends in hell had a consensus. The sound carried like a wave, a solid wall that sucked everything up and drowned out the single voice until it became a force of nature itself. It was a sound the angels would hear on earth. "Do you want to rend him? To suck the marrow of his bones? Crush his skull? Do you want his blood to soak the alter as it should have so long ago? Do you want to drag his infantile corpse over every stone in hell? Corrupting him to his core? Do you want to rein chaos on the world that peacefully sleeps above? The very creation he favored over _us_?"

The demons frenzied under Vali's skillful oration. She knew what made her subjects tick and knowing that, she knew what they desired the most. They were the essence of hell, this mass that she controlled and spurred onward to fate only she knew. They desired all that was perverse, chaotic, painful, and deceitful. Vergil had a feeling Lauren had just moved up to a more immediate concern.

"Then follow me my brothers in arms, and I will give you the thing you most desire," Vali eyed the crowd, a smile on her face, a smile none in hell had ever seen her wear. The smile and the hush of her voice forced their silence. "Follow me, fight for me, die for me, _serve me_, and I will give you a god-less world." Her eyes flared a malevolent red as the masses cheered, their throaty howls rising. "Celebrate our pending victory now!" Vali roared, "Within the fortnight we march!"

He had seen and heard enough. It was time to find Lauren, her purpose in this ruse was approaching. Vergil turned and left as the assorted demons, vampires, and fey began their reveals. Tonight there would be celebrations in hell that none had seen before, and they would last for two weeks. Never had a master of hell forced their way across the barrier to the human world. Tonight even the angels would pray as earth felt the beginnings of a full scale invasion. That being said…why the _hell_ was that damning _human_ _woman_ in hell?

Finding her now would be like looking for a needle in the haystack. Many humans would come into hell tonight, few would survive. More would take their own lives in horror or insanity. Mentally cursing, Vergil left the open hall, disappearing into the thick crush of the masses. When he found that idiot woman she had better be damn well near dead. Anything less and he might kill her himself.


	65. Tangled Web

**Half an Hour Ago-****The Fey Princess**

"She's protected. That angel scum," Linda hissed, raging. She was pacing back and forth. "He made a faulty deal." The fey princess stopped before the unconscious human. The angelic scrolling moved sluggishly under the ex-Captain's skin. It was fighting off the poison, but it was losing. Badly. This was mainly due to the fact that it had used so much of it's energy rejecting the entry of her majesty into the human's mind. "I'll show them to make a fool of me," Linda fumed, continuing her pacing. Dallicus watched his life mate pace from his place on the bed, uninterested in her ranting. He was more concerned with the way her skirt rode up during her rapid steps. His lifemate never ceased to appeal, even with the horrible scarring the human had given her. He knew her frustrations would be spent other ways after her damning human was dead. Just as he knew she would never give up the heart in the first place. It was disconcerting however that the angels were using the fey to dispose of one of their own.

"Will you still take her to hell?" He prompted. In truth he really didn't care, but it was a question his life mate would expect from him. Women, they were only good for one thing…

"There's nothing else to be done now is there? The queen may strike an alliance for her. Or if not for her than for the heart, if the angels want it then it will be of some value to the queen. And if that fails, if that damning human finds away out of hell, unaffected by the blizt, there are still ways to kill her. It all starts with an invitation, my dearest love."

"Well that gets rid of that line of questioning," Rayne purred. Her blades where coated thick with fey blood. It looked like she had spilt numerous colored paints on them. She narrowed her eyes at the scene before her.

"Not quite the wholesome setting, is it?" Lucia asked. Her clothes too, were spattered with fey blood.

"The Dhampire Empress," Dallicus smirked. Rayne felt her lips draw back, showing off the incisors. The prick…she would personally see to his death. Making a deal with the fey was often _difficult_ and miss-wording in a deal could have disastrous results. As Rayne herself had found out.

"What is your business here?" Linda snapped, once again stopping her pacing.

"We want the human," Lucia replied, flipping a waiting dagger into her hand.

"There are no humans here," Linda sneered. "You want this?" She gestured to the suspended human. The blitz now fully permeated her blood, lighting up her veins a deep red color. "You will have to search the bowels of hell for this one," the princess growled. Behind the fey and human a portal opened. It's malevolence seeped into the room and there was no question to where it led, the shifting angles and hazy red sky could be seen. Even the numerous massing demons could be seen. More than several fey were hidden in their midst. Linda was reaching the end of her stores, the magic lit up the veins and streamlets beneath her skin as she drew forth her final efforts from within. She would have just enough to kill the human and return.

Hopefully by then her life mate will have disposed of these bothersome women. How they'd slipped past her guards so easily, it was annoying...and once again, Linda found herself cursing Lauren. It would seem that damn human would thwart her at every turn as long as she lived. Well…she was going to fix that. In a moment the portal closed behind the human and the fey princess. Around them the demons celebrated, their joy as bloody as the princess's own would be, once she found the right demon for the job. Smirking, Linda pulled the human through the crowd. This would be a perfect place to leave her black thorn in the side.

**Shadows**

"Lord, the reincarnation is being born, as was prophesied."

"Excellent work Raziel. The troops are readying themselves. And what is the condition of our future Great Lord? Healthy I hope?"

"I'm not sure yet. He's…still being born."

"The dhampire fulfilled his role with the eye nicely. That demon has the chalice, and the fey princess, the heart. Things are proceeding as planned."

"Sir? My sister knows what you're planning."

"Which one boy?" the elder man barked, his eyes piercing the other's.

"The one that rules hell."

"And what does an angle of infinity think of all this? Does it scare her as it should?"

"Actually sir, she's pleased we're doing this. I think she's still planning to try and take the child, like mother said she would. She's celebrating her victory in hell even as we speak."

"Ha, _victory_," the other spit the word like a curse, "the wench seeks only to provoke me. The way they all squirm, the fey and the vampires rushing to strike alliances before the onslaught. It is life at it's most meaningful and basic form. The struggle of life is splendid, isn't it boy?"

"…I would guess so my lord."

"Very good Raziel. Now go. Assure the child is the one we need."

"I will. But, lord?"

"Yes?"

"My sister…"

"Yes I know boy," the elder began impatiently.

"Not Infinity, the other one, the one dad…killed."

"What about the wench?" the elder demanded coldly.

"…. … …"

The elder sighed. "My apologizes my son. My impatience grows with time. I yearn to absolve this world of the unnatural creatures wrought by that sister of yours. The vampires, the fey, the changlings, the demons, all will be cleansed from the world as our lord wished. Once he is reborn again in human shape, his horrible wrath will know no bounds."

"She's in hell, sir."

"_What_?"

"She crossed there with the fey queen. I think…I think she was _angry_ before it happened." The younger paused for a moment, then wonderingly continued, "But then, my sister, she was full of regret. Even as unconscious as she was. I _felt_ it."

"Is it possible that she's acquired human emotions living among them?" the elder murmured.

"It would seem she has Sir." At that the elder slowly smiled.

"How splendid. I have new order for you Raziel my boy, keep an eye on that sister of yours. Report her actions to me."

"What of the child my lord?"

"Fear not, one of our own fathered the boy. Fallen as he is, perhaps we can make use of him after all."

"….Your will be done lord…"


	66. Flesh Fair

Update! yay! Nice lil' exam break. I don't know, but my updates might stop for about a week. I have to move back home soon, and things are beyond stressful here. (As in I passed 'stressful' five brain hemorges ago). Hopefully i'll get one more update before moving home. Well that's it for me, enjoy!

* * *

**Lauren Blitzing**

It was parent's day. I hated them for it, those teachers and every one of those kids in my class lucky enough to be loved. Lucky enough to have parents that wanted to keep them, to be wanted. I absolutely hated them. That particular day, Tiffany was at the hospital, and I was all alone. Coincidently, it was my first day at school since we'd left WishHouse. I'd never really been on my own before. I was always with Tiffany, right from the get go. That's why, when we all left Silent Hill, I left with her. She was my family, there was no body else. And kids on the street with no body to care for them…well, you get the idea.

But Tiffany took care of me, taught me right from wrong, why I shouldn't steal food and other small objects from corner street stands. She kept up at it too, for one long year, a seven year old acting mother to a five year old. I never thought that maybe she needed someone to take care of her.

We squatted in old abandoned building down town. It was scary at night, druggies and insane hobos were always about, along with the occasional gangster, but it was relatively warm and safe. And anything was better than WishHouse. We weren't beaten, we weren't starved, we managed okay. Then one day…Tiffany got sick. There was no outward sign of illness, no cuts, no swelling, no bruises, no puss or infection. None of that. What Tiffany had was _inside_, it was in her head. They explained it to me latter, but at the time I didn't know any better.

I thought he'd be an easy pick. It was his baggy clothing, his pockets were _huge_ and he had to have a wallet in there somewhere. Where there were leather bound wallets, there was money. And with money, you could get medicine. Never mind that I didn't know what kind, I thought I would just keep trying until I got the right one. Five year old logic, it never occurred to me that Tiffany might need to eat or that she was becoming dangerously dehydrated as she lay there day after day.

My hand was in and out, and then it came up short on a solid metal chain. I stared in horror as he turned and took me in. He was so tall and I was just a small little girl. Adults did horrible things to small children. It was the only truth I knew at the time. Yanking, the chain broke and I took off. Usually I didn't take wallets, I just took the cash in them and then I'd put them back, because that was okay. It wasn't stealing, not really. Those with wallets had money, those people the means to replace that kind of money. We had nothing.

I felt bad about taking the wallet, but I had I done what I had done, and there is no rewinding time. There wasn't even enough time to think. I ran like hell and he still caught up with me. It really shouldn't have been that surprising, that grown man could catch up with a five year old, but by then I was in our building, in our room, and Tiffany was a few paces away, as pale and comatose as I had left her.

I dropped his wallet then. I couldn't believe how _stupid_ I had been. He could do anything to me now and no one would care, no one would see and no one would believe, just like at WishHouse. As he came forward, I backed up, until I was huddling down on the ground next to Tiffany. I didn't want him to hit me like I knew he would. And as he bent down to pick up his wallet, I saw the woman in the doorway. It was the way she looked that got my attention first. She looked so beautiful, almost too perfect to be real, like an angel would. Her hair was silky blond and her eyes were blue and tranquil, they filled with concern when she saw two of us. It was the first time an adult had ever looked at me that way. I didn't know it meant.

The man scared me, he had wild blue animal eyes and he was quiet. Mean adults were quiet, until they screamed at you. I didn't want him to scream at me. I just wanted them to leave so Tiffany and I could go back to playing house. And as he eyed me, it occurred to me that he didn't look like an adult who would hurt me, he hadn't really done anything other than pocketing his wallet. But I didn't want to give him a chance. Imagine my surprise when he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder after making a call on his cell. I learned latter he did that to keep me from bolting, like I had been planning to. By then the woman was leaning over Tiffany, saying things I didn't understand.

They checked her into a hospital that day, and she didn't get out for the next five months. Not until they were sure her head was okay. They said I was lucky that my head hadn't been broken like Tiffany's had. They said she had stopped caring, and that was why she couldn't do anything. They said something like that would never happen to me, I had been lucky. Sometimes I wonder if maybe they were wrong.

**Vergil**

As usual, finding her was easy. She left her damning cigarette smell all over the place. He could smell it among the other humans sold within the flesh fair. It would seem Lauren would never forsake the habit. When he entered the room, the fey princess was there, making a deal with Alyssa over the unconscious human. A sight he would have preferred not to see.

The hall was dark and secluded, a windfall he hadn't expected. Many a thing could go unnoticed in a dark secluded hallway of hell. Behind, the roaring sounds of the celebrations were ever present in his ears. Lauren had been a fool to anger a fey princess, her very presence here was endangering _everything_. Damn that human. The tang of magic increased as he approached the two.

"I believe I know this human," Alyssa commented to the fey, warily eying him. Alyssa, one of the demons the Order worshipped aside from Mundus. She looked so childlike, though all innocence was corrupted by her nature. Alyssa enjoyed her appearance, often pampering her skin with various things, though her pale drowned flesh was anything but pleasant. Always the demonness smelt of putrid, corrupted blood and damp, filthy lake water.

"She's mine," Vergil interjected, ignoring the fey princess. She abruptly backed up, falling silent, allowing the two demons to speak.

"On what right?" Alyssa demanded, her eyes flashing. "You have no claim to her."

"Actually," He knelt down, "I do." He plucked the amerhurst portion Lauren wore, showing it to Alyssa. His aura in the small gem was evident. It was enough to substantiate any claim he cared to make. "_You_ have no claim Alyssa." He straitened, turning to the demonness.

"I have seen this human before, Nero," Alyssa snapped, already blood ran from her dark child-like eyes, a sure sign of her annoyance. "Once when she was a child." A slight smile, completely devoid of the purity it sought to represent spread across her small face. Even Alyssa's height came only to his waist in the smell child body she inhibited. As mother of all evil spirits, she still possessed the last body the Order had dedicated to her. Despite her appearance, it would be foolish to underestimate her. "I would ask you for the child Nero. Her flesh was desecrated and dedicated to me by others."

"There is no child here Alyssa," he replied mildly, glancing to Lauren.Anidiot maybe, but nochild. "Any past claim no longer holds."

"You've never sought human flesh before Nero," Alyssa growled, the blood ran from her eyes in rivulets now. "Why start now?" Alyssa had always possessed an affinity for human flesh, to the point of being worshipped by them. The celebrations would only draw out her natural appetite to it's most veracious point. However, Vali had used him as her instrument of terror for so long, very few distinguished between his will and hers. He never thought the black bitch had done him a service in this matter.

"You question me?" he asked softly, raising an eyebrow. The heavy sword came unsheathed easily.

"Of course not _Lord_ _Nero_," Alyssa snarled, spitting his name like a curse. She eyed him for a moment before suddenly smirking. He felt himself grow wary, it was never far from mind that Alyssa was a sly demon. Slier than mostcredited her for. "Perhaps after the leisure of you or her majesty, I may have the corpse? I am fond of those offered to me by my humans."

"Perhaps," he allowed flatly. No doubt Allysa would love wearing Lauren's corpse about hell. As much as he hated to admit, it was an eventuality he couldn't permit.

"Please tell her majesty I would enjoy playing with this human," Alyssa added as she turned to leave. For the briefest of moments, he let himself relax. Convincing Alyssa had been half the battle, the fey would be easy to deal with. …Then he was going to throttle Lauren. A fey should have been easy to defend against.

"You desire my human?" the fey asked, sidling closer. Vergil didn't bother responding, instead he knelt down. Something wasn't right. It was hard to tell what it was, the smell of magic was so thick about them.

"What did you do?" He asked quietly.

"Whatever do you mean, my Lord? She is all yours but for the taking. There will, of course, be a price."

"She's _worthless_." Vergil stood, facing the fey. He raised an eyebrow, willing himself not to bring the heavy blade down on Lauren. It was blitz, a lot of it. The fey were _not_ that difficult to kill. They were almost on the same level as humans, as they tended to let their emotions run them. "You've all but murdered her."

"Of course not my Lord, I've simply made her more _compliant_ for your needs," Linda smirked. "Otherwise, you'd have a most difficult human on your hands."

"You've tainted her," he growled, grinding his teeth together. Damn that human woman. It was pathetically easy, manipulating this one. So why had she fallen prey to a being so weak? …Humans…they had no strength about them. The fey's eyes widened as she backed up. "For that there will be no payment."

"What?" The princess demanded, going ramrod strait, halting her retreat. "She's my human!"

"Really?" he asked coldly. Zanbato's edge, yamoto in devil trigger, gleamed in the dark light of hell.

"I will tell the queen of your insolence, demon," the fey hissed backpedaling.

"The queen will hear nothing from a dead corpse," he replied nonplussed. He considered killing her for a moment. Why Lauren was threatened by this worthless wench, he didn't know…and he didn't care. So long as the fey stayed out of his way…

"But a dead princess might yet have a tongue," the other hissed, the magic flaring to life in the fey's blood. "The unresting dead will not always maintain their silence." The princess bitch had no idea what it was she spoke of, Vergil tighten his grip on his sword hilt. "Have the wench. May she drive you to your grave, demon," the other hissed. With that the fey was gone in a wave of magic. He could feel the barrier shudder as it closed behind her. It was as he thought, she was another cruel master who derived power by controlling others. Interesting that she'd caught one as willful as Lauren in her web. Easily he resheathed Zanbato, eyeing the human. Well, she was near dead, he couldn't fault her that. Though reaching such a point through one so petty, the idiot woman… He was half beginning to believe she did things like this simply to spite him.

Kneeling down, his nose twitched again. The scent of magic was strong. Brushing back the bangs that continually fell into her eyes, he found what he was looking for. The blitz, it spider webbed around her left eye, upraising the myriad of blood veins until they looked liked upraised welts. As they tended to in humans. Briefly he closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together. Lauren the pain in the ass woman. The fey had attempted to probe her memories, it had been clumsy and forced, lacking in finesse. He'd seen humans die from less…

"Crod," he called summoning the smaller demon. Easily he picked her up. She was as light as a child, her skin cool to the touch. The poison was winning, slowly but surely, if something wasn't done, things would unravel soon. He half wondered if he should have rid himself of the fey. It was a tempting notion, however, the fey was not his problem, not until it came to retrieving the heart in any case.

"Yes Lord?" the small demon knelt behind him. Sighing, Vergil turned to the demon. Crod's good eye widened with surprise for a moment, as it studied the woman his master bore. The demon was wise enough to hold it's silence however. He knew his new master well enough by reputation.

"Inform Vali I will not be attending her council." Nodding the lesser demon left, disappearing in the same manner he always did. Turning Vergil left the dark hall. It wasn't long before Lauren surfaced. Moaning, her hand went to the empty knife sheath before she opened her eyes. So she had fought…and lost miserably. Why was that not surprising? Blinking she stared at him, her eyes unfocused. He was slightly disconcerted to see the blitz affecting her to such an extent, the fey must have injected her with a large amount of blitz for it to turn her left eye a muddy red hue. He'd been a fool not to kill the fey. The bitch could have ruined everything.

"You're safe," he growled, "for now." That however, was a complete lie. Hiding Lauren from Vali would be extremely difficult now, though due to the current…atmosphere, it might be possible. Not to mentionhe might kill her for beingso careless,assuming the poison didn'tdo the job forhim. Nodding slightly, Lauren closed her eyes again, almost as if she really had heard him through the mindless buzzing the blitz inflicted. She let her head fall against his chest and it wasn't long before her breathing pattern changed to that of sleep. Witless cow. Now he was stuck with her, in hell of all places. …_Damn her_…


	67. Jotheil's Bargain

**Josh**

"She's losing blood! We need more gauze!"

"Get the child out of the room!"

"Blood pressure dropping!"

"Dammit, she's hemmoraging! Get the doctor in here now!"

Over the voices of the birthing room a child's wail could be made out, though it was faint through the glass window. Josh grit his teeth together. It wasn't going well. He should have known she hadn't been taking her medication. The way she had been acting, he should have known. He couldn't lose them. He couldn't lose her.

"We can prevent this," she interjected lightly. Arielle stood behind him a pace, watching the frantic doctors work. "The Grand Master is willing to permit the further existence of your wife and protection for your son. Come back to us Jothiel. You won't be turned away."

"So long as I serve as your new Joseph," Josh spit, glaring at the angel over his shoulder.

"Hardly," the other replied, unfazed by his vehemence. "We simply wish to ensure the child's safety. Surely you know what your human son is by now?"

"Don't mock my intelligence, you want a new god." More than that the angels wanted the most powerful piece in the game. It was a price he wasn't willing to pay.

"We want your family. We want to guard them against the encroaching evil. They are more precious to us-"

"Spare me illusions of your sincerity," Josh hissed. He watched as his wife slowly began to die on the operation table. She was all he had in this world, it had been a lonely existence before he found her. For a second it surprised him to realize how much he'd come to depend on her. He exhaled, pushing the thought away. Tiffany was his wife and he cherished her. It was a decision the Grand Master knew he would make. Had anticipated he would make. "Fetch your miracle Arielle." He couldn't lose them. Damn the angels and their scheming to hell, but he wanted his family alive and healthy. He'd bear this burden so long as they were alive.

"As you wish," Arielle replied, a slight smile on her face.

**Lucia and Rayne**

"Hmm…did we really make that deal? With the fey?" Lucia asked somewhat dazed. Rayne glanced over to her, unsurprised. That aptly described how she had felt the first time she'd made a deal with the fey.

"She has a grudge against her," Rayne replied shrugging. "As an ex 'employee' it would make sense that bitch would ask for Lor to be there." Rayne considered for a moment. "Assuming Lor finds a way out of hell," she added dryly.

"Knowing Vergil, she'll be out of there soon enough. What's important is that we've found the third artifact. Why didn't we just kill her and take the artifact again?" Lucia asked.

"Because she offered a lot of cash-which is why you said we would consider the job-and the artifact if we did the job, with the assumption that Lor would be there," Rayne replied, "after she returns from hell. I don't like it either, remember this bitch is tricky. I wouldn't turn my back on her, especially if she has the heart."

"Either way Dante needs to be informed." Lucia looked over to Rayne. "You want to come?" Rayne smiled, a quick flash of her teeth, and nodded.

"Why not? I don't have anything better to do." The two continued on down the darkened street, side by side.

**Dante and Trish**

"It seems we're in for an interrupted night tonight," Trish sighed. She stood up and stared down at Dante, fists on her hips. He'd lost five rounds that day, she smiled wickedly at him, trying to cover up her own annoyance. He had to pay up now, and she was going to make him pay dead to rights this time. Dante glanced up at her, he felt it too. Just one night…was that too much to ask? Right when they were going to…. A knock came at the door, followed by the red headed twins, Rayne and Lucia. Trish had already left the room. Dante winced as he pushed himself up from the chair. She had used her nails…

"What do you want?" Dante asked, slightly annoyed, as he headed for the fridge. He was beginning to wonder why they even bothered buying one in the first place. There was never any food in it-discounting beer- unless Lor was around to stock it. Where was the girl anyways? Not that he'd missed her absence for a night or two. Sighing, Dante grabbed a beer.

"The heart," Lucia announced, a slight smirk dancing on her lips. "It just went on sale." Dante glanced over, raising an eyebrow. It was about time the last artifact showed up.

"…..That's all?" Lucia looked at Dante in surprise.

"What do you mean, 'that's all?'" she asked. "It's the heart, Dante. We found the heart, the last of the three artifacts, the only one Vergil doesn't have. The one thing that may prevent him from raising up hell….again…if we get our hands on it." Dante popped the top on the can, he looked over to Rayne.

"And why are you here?"

"I'm bored," Rayne shrugged. Her eyes were lit under their hoods. She was drunk on fey blood, Dante realize. Both women reeked of blitz…and something else rather peculiar.

"Lor's been gone for the day," Dante replied flatly, eyeing the red heads. "You wouldn't know anything about it would you?" Rayne watched him start to chug. She wondered how any living being could drink so much alcohol and still be alive.

"Lor is in hell." Dante lowered the empty can, crushing it.

"What?" That explained the empty fridge among other things. What kind of deal had Trish made with the girl?

"Lor is in hell," Rayne repeated flatly. Dante snorted. It figures, with any luck she'd be beating in his brother's head. The girl didn't have anywhere else to go, not her home and not her sister's. Not with the rumors he'd been hearing lately. These bimbos came over here to tell him this? "Why the hell would the fey commission half demons? Or a human she wants dead?"

"Allies," he replied flatly, "for the upcoming war." So that's what had happened? The fey? ….Interesting…

"And you know this because…?" Lucia crossed her arms skeptically,

"There's a war coming."

"Really?" Dante shrugged. Either she believed him or she didn't. Despite what she believed, it didn't change the fact that the last of the fallen angels, the relics of weak demon and fey couplings, and vampires, were all creating allies. Anything to stem the clash that would follow where ever the numerous demons and angels went. Anything to save themselves. _'And from the sky shall cometh the resounds of thunder, and from the ground shall cometh the swarms of evil. Those of the mixed blood and grace will rally to fight the host…' _The memory of his mother reading the fairy tale resounded at the back of Dante's mind. Such were the bedtime stories of a half breed demon child. He'd stumbled upon it earlier that week looking for where Lor had put his drum sticks. The girl had a tendency to 'misplace' his drumsticks after a particular annoying day of paper work. He had never found what he was looking for.

"Does anybody care that we found the heart?" Lucia asked archly. They both looked at her with blank faces. Lucia threw up her arms in defeat. She stalked over to the couch and flung herself into it. "For your information, the fey princess is willing to pay over a quarter million, per person, for this job. Plus she'll give us the heart in the mix."

"And this job would be?" Lucia smirked.

"Lower class demon slaying from the sound of it. It's as easy as it comes, Dante." Dante considered. "Please don't tell me you actually have to think about something like this!" Lucia looked at him exasperated.

"What makes job so important?" As much as he hated to admit it, even he was hesitant to step in the middle of all this. _This isn't over until it's over Dante_….his brother's words echoed in his mind. So this was a long haul, that was nothing new, however, this time around, he had something to lose. _Damn_…

"The heart," Rayne commented, smirking, "and blood. Lots of blood. Not to mention the fey want Lor there."

"Hmp." Dante raised an eyebrow, considering. For a human, Lor managed to get herself into a lot of scrapes. If the fey wanted her there it was about revenge, or alliances, most likely a mix of the two. No wonder Verigl had been irritated, Dante smirked, the kid was a handful.

"Who cares?" Lucia shrugged, looking between Dante and Rayne. "I say we do it. What's there to lose? Besides I want to see what that human can do." Lucia smirked, she looked more than ready for the job. He could smell the fey blood drenching her daggers. Dante thought of Trish for a final time, she was wearing the long fuzzy pj's she was so fond of in his mind's eye. No hint of the few precious moments before.

"It's up to Lor, bottom line." Irked, Dante turned to Rayne. "You in or out?"

"I'll be there," Rayne smiled slyly. "Fey blood goes down better than whiskey."

"Fine. Now get the hell out of my house."


	68. Old Remedies

Holy hell, i live. Bleh. They need to dust the bottom of the world, which is were I dropped to for about four days strait. I'd like to say thanks for everyone's patience, this update took FOREVER for me to get up. I'll try not to let that happen again. But! At least finals are over! That means more time for update goodness! Anyways, this chappie goes out to Tamarani. Thanks for having a good sense of humor! Enjoy!

* * *

**Vergil**

Her temperature was rising. It was about damn time. He had to wonder why he was doing this to somehow he was going to kill. And there was no doubt about it, he _was_ going to kill her. How one human could be so damning annoying he didn't know, but somehow Lauren managed. The leeches had been near impossible to get.

The scrolling and protections the Order had giver her somehow pooled the toxins under her skin, preventing them from spreading further. Any normal human would've been dead, even with the protections. That damn human had a tolerance to the foul stuff, and a high one at that. That was a rarity among even some lower demon classes. The leeches were perhaps the only satisfaction to the situation. He was considering making Lauren eat one when they were finished with the job. Time passed slowly as they sucked away the toxins, growing larger and lethargic as they sluggishly moved along her skin. A number of them were around her eye and hip, were most of the toxin had pooled. The scar was interesting, hinting at yet another story Lauren had selectively 'forgotten' to mention when they spoke of her fey enemy. He smirked, annoyed as he was. Apparently, it was time for another 'chat'. Prying the information out of her tiny peon skull with his bare hands was starting to sound downright enjoyable…

"Lord? The Queen demands your attendance at the council." Turning Vergil eyed the small kneeling demon with distaste.

"Does she now?"

"The council concerns the new birth of…that human," the demon choked on the name of the higher being. "She demanded I inform you Lord. She said you will attend." The small demon glanced up, openly staring at Lauren with fascination. It may have been the first time the demon had every laid eyes on a human before, he realized. Annoyed, Vergil stood. Damn _women_, they had no sense of timing. There was no doubt in his mind that Vali's little council would end in complete chaos. Chaos he'd have to deal with. One would think the black bitch would partake in the insanity she had single handedly reduced hell to rather than create more…then again, Vali was on her throne for a reason. He reigned in his irritation, Vali couldn't learn of Lauren, or if she did, be it later rather than sooner.

"You're to watch the human," Vergil informed the small demon as he buckled up his armor. The last thing he need was Vali's attention. She wasn't a fool, she wanted to keep an eye on him. One supposed that was the price one paid for a war.

"Me?" the small demon all but squeaked, rising to his feet wide eyed.

"Yes," he growled. Zanbato was easy in his hand as he turned to Crod. The small lizard may have actually gone pale at the notion of his future service. It was enough to bring a smirk to his mouth. The small demon had many a reason to be afraid, Lauren was enough to drive any man to stark raving madness.

"But Lord Nero-"

"Should she be dead or harmed before my return, I recommend you dig a grave," Vergil cut him off. At that the demon's eye went wide.

"But Lord-" the small lizard fell silent under his master's gaze. Crod's shoulders slumped in defeat. "As you wish Lord Nero." Vergil left then, leaved the small demon with the girl. It would be interesting to see how the two would fare, as they were both thorns in his side.

**Lauren Blitzing**

Parent's Day again. I could feel my eyes welling up as I watched them. Parent's Day, who made up this holiday? All those kids with their stupid parents who loved them enough to keep them. I didn't even know who my parents were. By then, I had lived with the couple who found us for nearly a month and a half. Their names were Sion and Dominique, and they worked at a bar called Fate. Ironic, right? Tiffany was still in the hospital. I hadn't seen her for nearly three weeks now.

Dominique was the one who enrolled me at the nearby school. I hated her for it. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to learn. I didn't know any one here. I wanted Tiffany. I wanted to see my sister. Over and over again, every time I had gone in to see her, the doctors corrected me. They kept telling me she _wasn't_ my sister. They said _wasn't_ related to me. They also said that there was no way to change that. Ever. I refused to believe them.

That morning I had asked Dominique if I could visit Tiffany again. Dominique had looked at me with surprised blue eyes before wrinkling her brow. I asked every morning if I could go see Tiffany. For three long weeks it had been 'Maybe latter dear'. They were just like _them_, always making promises and breaking them. Always saying things they didn't plan on following. They were _lying_ to me.

I didn't trust them, Sion and Dominique, though of the two of them, I trusted Dominique more. Sion scared me. He was too quiet. Some one that quiet was scary. It didn't help that the only time he spoke, he asked about _them_. _Them_ being the scary ones. That's what I used to call _them_. _They_ were the ones that wore black and did bad, horrible things I didn't want to think about. _They_ were the ones that scared me. I think it disturbed Sion and Dominique that I slept with the overhead light on at night. I was use to Tiffany always being there, right next to me. The absence of her was…scary. I felt lost, like my family had been ripped away from me, like my own heart had been ripped away. Especially when Dominique had said 'Maybe latter' earlier that morning.

I wrapped my arms around my legs, trying to blink back the tears. I didn't cry. You didn't cry around the scary ones. _They_ hit you if they caught you crying. And I refused to cry now. I was wearing a new dress, Dominique had bought it. It was the first time anyone had ever bought me new clothes, even if it was itchy enough to send a pencil sharpener through a window. Still, I hated her for putting me in this miserable place day after day, but I didn't want to get it dirty. It was pale yellow with black trimming, the cotton breathed in a way my old rags never did. Dominique had laughed when she saw it, she said it matched my eyes and hair perfectly.

I didn't want to get my new dress wet, but it was hard. Those tears were determined to come out. Sniffing I bowed my head till my knees touched my forehead. I was determined that if I had to cry, no one would see it. Unfortunately, some _did_ see. Their shadow was huge as it fell over me. I didn't bother looking up. I thought it was another stupid teacher or those stupid kids with their stupid parents. God I was envious of them, it was easier to hate them than it was to try to get to know them.

"What are you doing?" His quiet voice made me jump a mile. It was Sion. Sniffing, I looked up at him as I wiped the tears away. _He_ couldn't see me cry. I didn't _want_ him to see me cry. He knelt down until he was at the same level as me. I was forced to look into his scary quiet eyes. I didn't see anything I recognized in those eyes. I didn't say anything. "Why are you crying?" He asked mildly, reaching out to brush away several rouge tears. I ducked, moving out of his reach. I didn't want him to touch me. What was he doing here?

"I'm not crying," I sniffed. His eyes crinkled at the corner as a small grin spread over his lips as he let his hand drop.

"Right." He stood and extended his hand. "C'mon. Let's go." I stared at him blinking. Suddenly something mattered, school wasn't over yet. They never let you leave early. I knew because I had tried before. Where were we going?

"Go where?"

"Move it kid," he replied flatly. "We haven't got all day." I took his hand and he didn't let go, even after he had helped me up. His hand was huge, three times as big as mine was. I wasn't use to holding onto such big hands. He didn't say anything as he led me out of that stupid school I hated. Not until we got out to the parking lot anyways. It was then he stopped for a minute. I stared up at him. What were we waiting for?

"Here," He said gruffly, letting go. He shoved a small object into my hands. "Dominique got it for you. Said his name was Gram." It was a furry weird looking thing. Two ears, two hands, two arms, two legs, two feet, and a huge fat stomach. It's eyes were buttons and it had a small brown nose. It looked like a bear, but I'd never seen a bear look like that before.

"What is it?" I asked him, turning it over in my hands. I liked how it felt. It was warm and soft, squishy even.

"You're kidding me right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I stared up at him blankly. What did he just say? What did that mean, 'are you kidding me'? Wasn't I a kid? "It's a teddy bear kid," He said after a moment. His face changed then, as he knelt down, something in his eyes changed. "Are you telling me you've never seen a teddy bear before?"

"What do I do with it?" I asked, staring at him. Was this a trick? Was he going to take this away like _they_ always did? I hoped not. I liked it. It was warm and fluffy. He snorted.

"Whatever you want. It's yours." Was he serious?

"Mine?" He started chuckling then, as he stood up.

"You sound like Dominique. Yes it's your's. C'mon, we gotta go." With that he took my hand and started walking again, pulling me into step behind him. Fate was only three blocks away, and Sion's house was five. But it was too early to go home.

"Where are we going?" I asked again. He still hadn't let go of my hand. I wondered why. He sighed, glancing over to me, before looking ahead again.

"You wanted your sister right? Where do you think we're going?" The world could have stopped spinning then and I wouldn't have noticed. We were visiting my sister. 'Maybe latter' was now. They weren't like _them_, Sion and Dominque, they kept their promises. I was seeing my sister. They had fed me, gotten me new clothes, even weird squishy things named Gram. Nobody had ever done that for me before.

"Let's go!" I demanded, pulling him along. By then I knew the way to the hospital like the back of my hand. He let me pull him along, the whole eight or nine blocks. He didn't say anything more. And he didn't need to.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. Maybe he wasn't so bad, this quiet Sion guy. Maybe he wasn't mean. I hoped not. I liked his huge warm hands that never let go. Those same warm hands had to carry me back to Fate five hours later because I'd fallen asleep next to Tiffany's hospital bed again. I liked Gram, my first present ever, he was warm and squishy. According to Sion, I never let go of him all the way back to Fate. Dominique had my number, she had gotten me just the thing to sleep with at night, to make you feel less afraid, less alone. I hadn't realized they'd known all along _why_ I slept with the lights on.

_They actually cared. They cared about **me**._

It was the last dream fragment that ran through my head as I woke up. Christ my head. Where the hell was I now? Groaning, I struggled to push myself up into a sitting position. At least I was laying on a comfortable bed. It's an improvement over concrete, my ass is thankful. Fuck…my head…I think the gnome brigade got replaced by the sadistic elves. And who the hell gave them rocket launchers? I shuddered, my teeth chattering like dried gourds. Its cold, _I'm_ cold. _Really_ cold. Dammit, it's going to be a fun few days. Go I hate blitz, it always makes be break out into chills. I don't suppose wearing a corseted tank top was helping me any. It was the one I always wore with my gauntlets, the downside being that they have a tendency to cut up long sleeves.

Opening my right eye was easy, the left eye however…that was different story. Not to mention my vision was all over the scale. Fucking A…my freaking eye. If I'm going blind I'm kicking some one's ass, hopefully Linda's, the fucking bitch… The next time I see her, I'm putting her in a freaking matchstick box, then I'm putting the matstick box in front of a train, after that I'm lighting the leftovers on fire. I am so seriouse, I'd laugh if it wouldn't sent my organ hemmoraging.

This is war and I'm done suffering the casualties. I don't owe Aaron anything, if he isn't bright enough to get his kid sister the fuck out then Darwin's theory of evolution can kick in with my blessing. Lifting my shirt, I could see the bruises decorating my side in all their swollen glory. Christ, I wonder if Aaron knows his sister eats lead. She cracked a fucking rib. Goddammit, why me? Why _now_? Wait a minute…_what hell is_ _that_?

It was about the size of my thumb, hardly moved, and felt cool and slimy against my skin. What? What the _hell_? Oh Vergil…what the hell did you do now? I don't know how many more 'surprises' I can take for today. It didn't want to let go, the bugger. It stretched nearly five inches long before letting go. I stared at it for a moment as it wriggled between two if my fingers. Oh Christ. It was leech, a fucking _leech_. There was five more on my hip. …I'm going to kill him. That's when I felt it. A soft, slimly, squishy something moving around by my left eye. …oh man.

Peeling it off hurt like a bitch, just like the first one had. Am I a shit magnet? Is there anything that somehow contributes to the fact that shit seems magically attracted to me? …goddammn that leech is _big_…ee_ewww_… I dropped the leeches onto the ground, shuddering and gagging now. Leeches…so gross…I need a shower. Maybe some scented soap to go with it. Fucking Christ, Vergil I'm going to fucking hit you.

I sniffed. Damn, I even smell like blitz. No doubt I was tripping with the skittles rainbow right now. That would explain my lack of motivation to actually hunt Vergil down for this. Blitz usually gives me one cranky case of attitude…aside from some…_other_…side effects. If words could cut, my mouth would be bleeding, at least when I'm on blitz. I'm going to have to watch myself…

"What are you _doing_?" a rough voice demanded. "Do you know how rare those are?" Looking over I had to blink twice. It was…a demon? A crocodile? Both with an Egyptian twist? …And he was cyclopitic. He came forward easily from his place by a chair and bent down to pick up the leeches. A minute latter and he made them into a meal. I'm starting to think there are worse things in hell other than Vergil. Didn't think that was possible, but I sit corrected.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded warily. I don't need to get into a fight right now. I hurt too much for it, and I just had the detox from hell. With _leeches_. Not to mention the room is upside down…literally. The bed I was sitting in was on what I would normally consider the ceiling. Is all of hell this confusing?

"You can speak?" the demon asked surprised, drawing my attention away from the ceiling. …I think I might end up trying to kill this thing. I am _not_ in the mood for anyone's 'inferior human' bullshit. Between half demons and the fey, I'm going to go postal if I hear that again. Whoa…cranky attitude strikes again. Darth Vader would be impressed.

"Does it sound like I can freaking speak?" I snapped. Well that shocked the hell out of it. For a demon, this thing is lacking in the fire and brimstone department. I sighed. My side is pounding in time with my head, which happen to be pounding in time to the techno party the sadistic elves are playing. I want to sleep. Fuck I want to carve up Linda's red fey ass and nail it to my goddamning door. Blitz, mental notes, side effects, bad, watch self. But that's easier said then done. I studied the demon for a moment as I massage my nearly broken head. "Now what?" I asked. Maybe if I gave it a ten and asked nicely, it would go buy me a whopper and fries. Hell I should make it a twenty, that way he can get me a bottle of jack and advil too.

"Where did Lord Nero find you?" The demon asks curiously, cocking it's head to the side to stare at me better with it's working eye. "Are you from the human realm?" Oh _great_, twenty questions Russian roulette style. Lord Nero my ass. Dammit Vergil, where are you?


	69. In A Hard Place

**Josh**

"Do you understand your task?" the elder asked peacefully.

"I'm not your tool old man," Josh snapped.

"But you do want them to live don't you?" the other responded, unperturbed by the fallen's outburst. Josh clenched his teeth together. He'd forgotten how _serventil_ his previous existence had been. How had he ever longed for such an existence? How had he withstood such an existence? Something was extremely off in heaven. Of course there had always been flaws, but something very basic wasn't right. Heaven had never been this degraded.

"I understand my task," Josh growled. Though it made his throat close up to such an agreement, it had to be done. The angels held the life of his wife and son between two grasping fingers. He would do as they asked.

"Complete your task and you may see your wife again," the elder angel smirked. Holding the cards over a fallen's life was unusual. Most were not so careless as this one. Most fallen angels were not the first of their breed either. To the elder, the angel kneeling before him had heralded the beginning of an end. And finally the solution to that end was near.

**Vergil**

"Well, I must say I'm pleased. Well done Nero, Barion's death was nothing short of what I expected. Tell me, what do you think of this army? Is it enough to stop the angels?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer to her musings. She had never expected one to begin with. How ever she could tell there was something on the mongrel's mind. "Or do you prefer to be called Vergil now? Ah well, I lost patience with General Barion long ago." Vali looked at him amused. "It'll be quite an entertaining time when this human god is dead." So she knew what went on in the human realm did she? Good for her, not that it would help her in any manner. Her voice was grating on the last of his nerves. She knew he would make no effort to reply, hopefully the bitch didn't realize the cause for this was that he was too tired to. He needed sleep. Badly, or at least his human side did. If she wanted someone to talk with she would have to order a conversation out of him. Vergil pushed opened the door to his rooms and entered. He wasn't expecting the black bitch to follow.

"Lord Nero, I did as you asked," Crod bowed before Vergil. He had been waiting, at attention, just inside of the twisted entry way. "I stayed to make sure no harm would befall her." The smaller demon looked up and saw Vali. He literally blanched as she openly smirked at the servant demon. "Would that be all?" How had this weak demon ever held the notion it could defeat him? Ever? It was enough to disintegrate what little patience he had left. In any case the small demon was here. That meant Lauren was still alive…possibly awake. Now how to get out of this? One couldn't simply order the Queen of hell out of one's nitch in hell, not with out arousing suspicion. _Damn human_.

"Leave Crod. Do as you will until summoned," Vergil dismissed him. It wouldn't do to have Crod here any further, though he had a suspicion the smaller demon had eaten the leeches. No doubt, Lauren was awake by now, with a few choice words at hand. It was enough to make him want to commit ritual suicide. Gratefully the lesser demon scurried from the room.

"So this is the reason you saw fit to leave the battle field before commanded. Quite a little enterprise you're making yourself." Vali casually walked past him into his quarters. She'd spied _the girl_ asleep in a chair, the more comfortable of two. The damning stubborn human, Vali might not have taken notice of had she stayed on the bed. And now there was Lauren, sitting out in the open like the scarlet whore of Babylon. She couldn't have been more noticeable if she tried. Her hair was a dark cascading wave over her shoulder even with in the murky room. It made her pale skin stand out in comparison. Even her lips shone redder by the dark light.

"What a precious toy," Vali crooned. She looked over to Vergil, her violet eyes dancing. _Damn Lauren._ "Tell me, what color are her eyes?"

"Gold," Vergil closed his own eyes, briefly. The damning _stupid_…now how to deal with this?

"How gold, Nero?" Vali began to idly played with Lauren's hair. He watched impassively as her delicately wrap a thick black lock around her fingers. It would be easy for Vali to tear Lauren's head off, no doubt it would just as 'amusing' as well. As the queen of hell, Vali's whims where often spur of the moment and cruel, at least to the casual eye. However, Vali was not as fickle as the fey, she calculated her actions. She wanted to know if Lauren was a weakness she could exploit. It was a trait she looked for in everything.

For someone who had known her for as long as he had, he knew every move she made was calculated, it was the only way to explain how she'd taken over Mundus's puppet throne in the seat of hell after he'd fallen under his brother's blade. Mundus had been a fool to rely on Vali for his reincarnation and after he was destroyed, she had easily maintained her new throne as ruthless and as devious as only a female bitch could. It was the sole cause as to why she demanded possession over his services with the blade among other things. The real question: did she recognized Lauren, and if so, how? Why? And most importantly, did she realize what Lauren was?

"As gold as honey," he replied carefully. The effort to stop himself from bringing the heavy blade down on both annoying women was a new test of endurance.

"Ah, well, that's no good." Vali feigned indifference that was as transparent as wine glass. He already knew what she wanted. With out fail the question came next. "Will you give her to me? I haven't had a human to play with in a while now." Vali watched his face amused; she could tell Nero didn't want to give this human up. She wondered why, but then she suspected she already knew the answer to that question, the half human dog. "No? Perhaps a trade can be arranged then?"

"No," Vergil replied flatly. He struggled not to let the ire show. Who in hell did she think she was fooling? She wanted Lauren to be a weakness, and now she had enough, at least in her mind, to safely assume the girl as one. He watched Vali untangle her fingers and inch closer. It reminded him of a spider feeding on a fly. The bitch wanted to know at what extent she could rely on the human as a weakness. It was a matter he didn't care to be tested on.

**Trish and Lucia**

"How exactly do you _not_ recover a missing human?" Lucia snapped. "Especially one that is in hell? With Dante's twin brother?" Trish sighed. Lucia had been at her throat all morning, any more and the bird would end up with a split lip and a black eye. Anger and annoyance, they were emotions Trish was beginning to associate solely with Lucia. Though she had to wonder why Lor was so important to her all of the sudden.

"Has it even occurred to you that she isn't property?" Trish asked, concentrating on her job, carefully kneaded the bread dough in front of her, working out all the air bubbles. There wasn't any food in the house again. If there was something to be said for having Lor hanging around, it was that she kept the place well stocked with food. Not to mention the place stayed cleaner. In either case, it was a slow day. Trish had been bored. She still wasn't quite sure what instinct had led her to the kitchen rather than the mall.

"That doesn't mean you should let her waltz around in the city!" Lucia snapped.

"Why not?" Trish asked calmly. She knew her calm tone would piss Lucia off. Anything fun and tranquil usually did. "Dante trained her, she has two swords and she knows how to use them. Any reason she shouldn't be fine on her own?"

"Because she's pathetic!" Lucia snapped. "And you know it. She couldn't kill a fly with a baseball bat if the fly had both wings torn off." Trish rolled her eyes. Lucia was worried about her next pay check. It was amusing in a way. Lor wasn't defenseless. She hid her experience too well to be considered defenseless. Human body, sure, and therefore slower, but she could fight. Trish knew that much from personal experience. She was challenging Lor to a rematch when she got back. Anything to keep from picking up another recipe. 'Cooking' had been amusing the first five minutes. Now it was downright annoying. There was no way she was going to be able to get the flour and dough out from under her nails.

"Next time Lor comes here, you fight her. It'll be amusing to watch her pound your ass," Trish replied. Carefully she rolled the dough up and placed it in the bread pan to rise.

"Fine!" Lucia scowled, stomping out of the room. Presumably to go help Dante 'look' for Lor. She didn't doubt he was off somewhere screwing around, possibly even finding leads about this job the fey had proposed. Lor knew how to take care of herself, even if she was in hell. Smiling, Trish placed the bread pan near the stove. It would be funny to see Lor kick Lucia's ass. Something to take her down a peg. Though Vergil returning her from hell sometime soon would be nice.

Knowing Lucia, she wouldn't get off of Lor's ass till the human beat her off. Trish picked up the bowl she had used for mixing; it would need to be cleaned. Then it was time for a heart to heart between her credit cards and various stores. They were running low on shot gun shells again. Dante had officially made it her job to restock the ammo having given up trying to keep up with her.

"By the way," Lucia stuck her head back into the room, "I just love what you've done with your hair. You should recommend me to your demon." She left again, this time Trish waited to hear the door slam shut. When it did, Trish realized she was holding on to the broken ceramic bowl shards. Damn, Lucia…how had she known? A demon had cut it off nearly three months ago. Dante had smirked when he saw it, twirling ebony around on a finger. He'd been smart enough not to openly chuckle, though latter, he had made a comment. Since then she'd been keeping it short simply to spite him, not that he seemed to care either way. Trish threw the shards into the trash, growling. Goddamn Lucia… Her feathery ass was dead next time they fought.


	70. Lauren's Appraisal

Memmorial day kinda surprised me...sorry for the late up date! Hope you enjoy it!

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**Lauren**

I felt something light and feathery on my cheek. What was that? Some one was petting me? Tickling me? The touching progressed down my neck.

"She has very soft skin, very…pure. Yet it has an absence of actual touch. No mommy or daddy to pet this child's head. Pity. Affection has come rarely to this one, she might have been perfect had she that." A woman's voice. Hmm…did I know this person? Her voice sounded familiar. What a weird dream. The petting progressed to my shoulder.

"Why must you be so selfish Nero? She's valuable, yes, maybe even rare, but she isn't that special. Why keep a flawed human? You've never shown interest before." Nero? Wait a minute…what's going on? What kind of dream is this anyways? The gentle stroking moved lower, crumpling the cigarettes in my jacket's breast pocket. _Fuck that._ Opening my eyes, I lashed out with a fist. The woman before me screamed and drew back record time, holding her face. …A women just groped me and in the process she annihilated my cigarettes. Is nothing scared? Next thing you know the smurfs will be dancing a circle around me and chanting. Anything to further destroy my sanity.

"You little bitch!" The woman's hand dropped away after a moment, revealing a bloodied, torn cheek. Serves you right, pig. Her cheek healed almost instantly, but by then I was on my feet and backing away. I ground my teeth together as my side imploded with pain. Ouch…my side, I forgot about that…

The woman glared at me, her violet eyes going from purple to red. It felt like someone had hooked me up to a battery and turned up the juice. Looking at her was like looking into a mirror. Except for the eye color….and the curly short hair….she looked exactly like me. I looked over blinking. What the hell Vergil? Just stand there while this idiot gives me a physical one over why don't you? How exactly does he define 'partner'? And who the hell is Miss Priss? Why does she look like me? I took up a defensive stance as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. She's a demon and she'll kick my ass in a fight, but I'll be damned before I let her do that again. My poor cigarettes.

"As you can see, she's unrefined," Vergil replied in a flat voice. I glared at him. _Unrefined_? Oh I'll show him _unrefined_. What the hell is he trying to do? Sell me or something? Who the _hell_ is she? I gritted my teeth together. "Either way, she'll remain in my possession for a while more." The woman before me glared at Vergil. He just has a way with women doesn't he? And excuse me? His _possession_? _Possession_? I glanced between the two of them. Like most demons, the woman's skin was absolutely flawless. There is no justice in this world. How had she known so much about me anyways? What is Vergil telling people?

"Very well, Nero," the woman snapped. "It seems the wench has made up my mind for me. I give you my word I won't touch your toy. The little bitch is all yours. However, should you require assistance in breaking her, don't hesitate to ask." She glared at me, I stared back at her blankly. Wait a minute, what? Ever get the feeling you've missed out on something? Whatever, I don't care what her story is. She just destroyed a brand new pack of cigarettes. The woman left then, stomping around like a spoiled brat. Vergil quietly closed the door behind her. I relaxed my stance. My side was screaming at me for being an ignoramous by then. Sighing Vergil came back into the room, pulling off his armor…it was covered with gross stuff. Demon's blood? Surprise there. He glanced over to me as he took a seat in the other room.

"You seem to have a knack for getting into trouble," he commented. I snorted, raising an eyebrow. I don't even know where to begin.

"Define for me the meaning of partner." I replied curtly, easing back down in the chair. He began pulling off the spiked gauntlets, sparing me a glance.

"Explain to me the use of a partner who's better off dead." Ass. The gauntlets fell off, making a hard grating sound against the black marble floor. My pounding head appreciated it. Underneath the armor, Vergil wore a black skin tight material. It didn't look like anything I'd seen before. It was some kind of material that shimmered against the dark light of the room.

"Fuck that," I snapped. "Who the hell was she? How the hell did I get _here_? And why the _hell_ did I wake up with leeches crawling all over my face?" He had the gall to chuckle.

"Is little Lauren afraid of a few small slugs?" _Small_ _slugs_? The smallest _leech_ had been as big as my thumb.

"Dammit Vergil," I growled. He wasn't going to answer my questions. Or if he did it would be an exchange, and that would be if I was lucky. Goddammit, I'm blitzing, I shouldn't have to answer his goddamning questions. And I sure as hell don't want to answer any questions regarding Linda and Company. But he wants something. What the hell is he fishing for?

"You're a blitz addict," he responded casually. … … … Excuse me?

"The fuck I am," I snarled. The little jerk. He doesn't know me, what gives him the right to judge? It's none of his damning business.

"You're not?" he asked mildly. "You have the scarring of a long term blitz addiction. To the extent that it lights up the veins under your skin." He saw the scar on my hip? He pulled my pants that far down? …Dead man walking.

"Who the hell did I just clock?" I demanded. "And what the fuck gave you the right to pull my pants down?"

"How the hell did you lose in a fight against a fey?" He replied, ignoring my questions. He was working on his armor plate now. "That's pathetic, Lauren, even for you." I'm so sick of hearing that. For a human this, for a human that, fucking Christ! No one's that fucking perfect.

"Well gee Verg, sorry if I don't get a kick out of watching my fey enemies rape fourteen year old girl. Fuck, it wasn't like she didn't crack a rib or anything when they threw her at me. And it's not like the fucking bitch didn't inject me with enough blitz to light up an entire city for a year. To make it better my rat assed bastard of a boss fired me _and_ I was disowned by my family. Sorry if fighting the slut wasn't on the top of my to-do list, I was a little preoccupied." I paused for a minute to catch my breath. Great…I just ranted…blitz induced word vomit…perfect… Groaning I leaned forward and massaged my pounding temples. Mental note to self, mental notes don't work.

"Are you finished yet?" Vergil asked coolly. Maybe I can get away with asking him to take his damning sword and shove it up his…yeah, sure I can. I didn't bother looking over to him. The best thing about blitz? It makes a complete asshole out of you with out the nice buzz of alcohol. I should be happy I'm still alive.

"No," I snapped, "I'm blitzing and I'm pissed." I got out of my chair and started pacing. Anything to move. This rib wasn't making it easy on me though.

"You're sure it's just the blitz?" He asked dryly. The chest plate came off then. It too made a nice grating sound as it hit the floor. I winced, snorting.

"You're sure I didn't just clock your ex girlfriend?" I replied dryly.

"Hardly, you hit Vali," Vergil replied. "Queen of the Underworld."

"The what?" I asked him mildly. The queen of hell? And I just slugged her in the face…peachy. Vergil's conversation skills are rubbing off on me.

"You must be high, you're slower than you usually are," he commented standing up. He kicked the bloody armor into the corner of the room before turning to me. "What is the fey princess holding over your head?" Mr. Conversation. It's none of his goddamning business.

"It's not important." I stopped pacing for a moment to rub my head. I could really use a bottle of jack right now.

"Excuse me?" Vergil asked coldly. …Great, now he's pissed. Dammit. I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone. No one would understand, not with out revealing everything. I can't afford to do that. Not yet anyways. I'd be an idiot to use my get out of jail free card now. Though in retrospect, it might have been useful earlier.

"It's none of your business," I replied warily. Why should he even care?

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because the next thing I knew, my side was screaming in pain as I took up a defensive stance. Vergil'd moved fast, but not as fast as I knew he could move. He had both my arms pinned already, my gauntlets cut into his hands. He didn't even give a hint that it hurt him. I knew that this was as close to a warning as he would ever give.

"I believe it's entirely my business," Vergil growled, "as once again, it was me who bailed your human ass out."

"Fuck you," I snapped. Well, there's the window, and there's my self-control flying out of it. All thanks to blitz. A second latter and Vergil had somehow spun me around, trapping me. He had both my wrists at my back with one hand. Fucking showoff.

"I've already warned you about making careless offers Lauren," Vergil replied, I could feel his lips against my skin. "Perhaps next time I should leave you with the fey mistress you so cherish." How did this happen? Vergil pulled up lightly on my arms making the joints started to burn with pain. I ground my teeth together.

"Fine so I fucked up. Thanks for the fucking news flash," I snarled.

"What is she holding over your head Lauren?" he asked softly. I grunted as his other hand ran over my broken rib. It felt like glass shards being caressed with a screwdriver. The added pain made it difficult to concentrate on anything. I don't think I've ever been in this much pain and still been conscious.

"Why the hell do you care?" I snapped. I shifted my weight. I was losing this battle, no question about it.

"Look around, you stubborn human," Vergil replied quietly. His breath was warm against my skin as he spoke into my ear. "You're in hell. No one cares if you scream here. No one cares if you suffer. No cares if you're hurt and no one will notice your pitiful death. What did you do to warrant the fey's anger?"

"I cut up her face," I snapped. Would he get his hand off my broken rib? He knows it's broken, he's increasing the pressure there. I couldn't do it anymore, just like he must have known I wouldn't be able to, the pain was making me see spots. Goddamn you Vergil.

"I asked what she's holding over your head Lauren," he replied in a detached voice. "Not what you did to deserve a trip to hell." I froze then. He knew? No he couldn't. No way in hell he could. What did Linda tell him? Demons, dhampire, and fey, they all treat humans the same. Nothing's scared to them. I ground my teeth together. I'm starting to think it would almost be better to have him kill me. I'm having one hell of a day and I don't see any end of it in sight. Not like Mr. Conversation would have a problem with that particular request. "What did she do to make you cut up her face?" Vergil demanded. "You're not given to violent fits."

"Sorry I'm not like you," I snapped.

"I could debate the point, however I'm not inclined to give my reasoning to you. You're testing my patience Lauren. Why does the fey princess want you dead?"

"Because I know her secrets," I snapped. God I hate him.

"Such as?"

"Secrets," I hissed. "I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. And I don't." It was an answer and a non-answer. It was the only answer I could think of right on the spot anyways. I don't make a habit of lying, I can honestly say I've never lied. Not really. But when it comes to half-truths, well, I'm extremely good at giving out 'edited' stories.

"As you wish stubborn human," Vergil replied flatly. "Keep your fey secrets, however, keep in mind that this is last time I take care of your mess."

"I never asked you to take care of my life," I snapped. Who that hell does he think he is?

"Who are you fooling?" He demanded, yanking my head back. His hand was entwined in my hair now, but at least it was off my side. However, the sadistic elves in my head where cheering him on. "You can barely take care of yourself." That hurt. He didn't know me. What gave him the right to judge? He didn't know a damn thing about me.

"You're one to talk," I snapped. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

"Oh?" He released his hand hold in my hair. "Enlighten me with your limitless wisdom," he hissed in my ear.

"Go to hell," I snapped. I'm _not_ giving him my life story. He doesn't deserve it any more than the next asshole.

"I'm already there," he replied dryly. "One might point out that you are too. I'd regret hurting you further for a simple story Lauren, especially since you so enjoyed the last time I forced a story out of you." His hand on my side again, sending the nerves there into shock. He had a point, the asshole. I didn't want him in my head rifling through my memories again. Goddamn him. The hell he'd 'regret' hurting me. Pain was what he did. I don't think he even knows the meaning of regret.

"You're fucking lying," I snapped.

"And you make a habit of telling the truth?"

"I don't fucking lie!"

"How did you come to know the fey?"

"Goddammit fine!" I yelp. He pressed the tips of his fingers into my side, actually moving the bone around. It was like the café all over again. Only I was ready to throw up from the pain this time around. "Fuck! Lemme go!"

"Payment first Lauren. It's a rule all those of hell abide by, myself included."

"You're not just a fucking demon, you're fucking half human too, you bastard! You want the damning story then let the fuck go!"


	71. Trust

**Vergil**

He released her. _You're half human too._ That brought back memories, the ignorant human. His mother had once said something like that. Dante too had said something similar. Stumbling, Lauren fell to her knees, her breathing labored. The rib was broken in two places, she was lucky it hadn't punctured a lung. That would need to be healed latter, now that it was set. That was assuming the blitz would let her live to see latter. It took her a few moments to catch her breath.

"I was the bouncer." Whatever he had assumed she would say, it hadn't been that. He'd half expected a torrent of curse words followed by two sentences of explanation.

"That's hardly an explanation."

"Shut the fuck up," she snapped, "I'm not done yet." She glared at him over her shoulder. She was livid. He smirked. Lauren was in rare form. "I needed money. I needed a job. There was this new night club, it opened up about two years ago, they needed bouncers. So I got the job. The boss was weird, the clientele was weird, but I got money. A lot of it. I needed it at the time." Groaning Lauren shifted position until she was sitting cross legged, cradling her side. Crossing his arms he took a seat in the chair she had previously been sitting in.

"I did a good job, I worked my ass off. I didn't question what the boss told me to do. Then one day, the boss pulled me aside, she said I could make more money if I did her a favor. No questions asked." He could already see where this was headed, the stupid human. "I did what she asked me to do. She kept coming to me, with more offers for money, more odd jobs. I couldn't do all of them on my own sometimes, so she'd send people with me. Other bouncers. Then one day, I'd had enough. I woke up at home with a broken hand and I had no clue how I got it. I was always waking up in weird places. It bothered me. So I told her I quite. And she…didn't like that. She started acting like I owed her this big favor. She treated me like I was a thing, not a person. So I left and I never went back."

A thing? Vergil briefly closed his eyes. Treatment of an object more like, the utter degradation of self worth, he knew was she was talking about. It was a heavy cross to bear. He knew more than she would ever guess. She was in a situation he was uncomfortably familiar with, though how she'd survived it he wasn't sure. He'd barely survived his own ordeal. There were details she had neglected. A lot of details she had neglected. He would have been able to tell that even if he hadn't heard the lying tone in her voice. The fey didn't kill humans because of disobedience, they did kill over pride however, and those few humans they actually trusted.

"You said you weren't a liar," he commented, raising an eyebrow.

"You said we were partners," she replied flatly. "A partner wouldn't have let the queen of hell grope me." She struggled to rise to her feet. "I'm not a blitz addict," she added, glowering at him. At the very least, Lauren gave out half truths. She never completely lied. It was something, he supposed, let her tell her half lies. He didn't desire her life story, he didn't care to give payment for something like that. There was no doubt in his mind, however, that she was a former blitz junkie. He was guessing she wasn't a junkie in the traditional sense. Though she craved addiction, Lauren wasn't as stupid as most humans were.

"I am in no position to tell the queen of hell what to do," Vergil replied standing. The damn weak human, she couldn't even rise to her feet. He pulled her up, careful of her side. Once again her skin was icy to the touch, the blitz lighting up her veins a red neon color. "Just as you are in no position to take revenge on your former mistress." She stared at him then. So she did want revenge. She was taking her time going about it. That was something to consider. A moment latter the shock was replaced with flat annoyance.

"Mistress? Get with it. She was my boss."

"Bosses don't leave you for dead," he replied quietly. Oh yes, he was very familiar with Lauren's position. He still bore the scar Dante had given him. "One would think you would take help when it's offered," he commented. Not that she ever did. She gave him a dirty look as she eased herself down into her chair.

"Oh yeah, just like when Linda would help me."

"Is trust too simple a thing to demand from you?" Her annoyed expression was amusing. He could feel himself smirking at her again.

"I'm supposed to trust someone who purposely injures me? And excuse me? Since when have you ever been trusting?" To that he had to laugh. She had freedom to do as she wished. That was more trust than he'd bestow upon any other. It was more trust than had been bestowed upon himself. As for 'purposely' injuring, the stupid woman had no idea how lucky she was to be alive still. "It's not funny," she snapped.

"I may harm you Lauren, but I've never lied to you and I've never tried to kill you."

"That's debatable," she commented dryly. Her eyes flashed. "My fucking side hurts because of you." Lauren was a difficult human, there was such a thing as too much spirit. He also knew that was such a thing as too much pride. He raised an eyebrow.

"Would it hurt as much if you had simply told me the truth?"

"Yes," she replied flatly. "You're fucking queen destroyed my cigarettes." She pulled the flattened pack out of a pocket, a look of mourning on her face.

"What a shame," he replied dryly. Even in hell the damning woman smoked. "You so much as take up your lighter and I'll break your fingers." She made a face at him.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" Easily he pulled her to her feet. Her temperature was dropping, her heart beat slowing. She shouldn't have removed the leeches. She grunted in pain as he forced her to stand. She glared daggers at him. She was biting her bottom lip so hard that it was beginning to bleed.

"Yes." Dante had taught her how to use her aura. Subconsciously she was directing her aura to defend her body against the foreign aura of the fey magic. The effort was taking it's toll on her. The star he had procured would substantiate her, hopefully long enough to see her through withdraw. His own aura would take care of the rest. "As it is, little human, you need to rest."

"Hell no," she replied. She looked panicked for a brief moment. "I go to sleep now and I'll go into a coma." He raised an eyebrow. So that's what had happened? Hmm…half truths, so she wasn't an addict in the traditional sense. The fey princess had purposely overdosed her the first time she'd blitzed? Most likely when Lauren had refused to be of further help. The human had been in a coma before. Interesting…

"That's doubtful Lauren." He reached for the tender nerves at the base of her neck.

"Hey, I'm serious," she replied, trying to move. The broken rib must have been giving her more grief than she was letting on, she was moving too slow. Even her mouth was slow.

"So am I. You'll have ample opportunity to exact your revenge later. You're late boss possess the heart, the last of the artifacts. If you desire revenge then you need to rest."

"_In_ _hell_?" she demanded faintly. She almost soundedspeechless. Something that good wouldn't last for long.

"Goodnight Lauren."

"Dammit," she groaned as he squeezed the nerves. "Most people pop pills to do this." He snorted, catching her as she lost her balance.

"You swallow enough pills to satisfy a meth pusher, Lauren."

"You should try it sometime," she muttered. "It might make you less of an ass."

"I only ask for your trust." She sighed, her eyes were hooded.

"Granted. Just don't fuck with it."

"As you wish, though once again, I would warn you against making careless offers." He dropped her onto his bed.

"How is this part of the trust thing?" she asked, glaring at him through the sleep haze that filled her eyes. The stupid human was building a tolerance to his technique as well. He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't insult me. Go to sleep human, you'll wake up at home." She snorted.

"Fine." Then she was asleep. He studied her. So there was more to this human than flesh and blood. Ideals where dangerous possessions however, as they tended to cloud one's judgment. Ideals sometimes drove one to do things they'd later regret. Nothing in life was certain save for the uncertainties it presented one with. A human with a cruel and using fey master. A half demon with a master he should have never had. A half demon with only half of a… Destiny was perhaps the cruelest master he'd had yet. Vergil felt the smirk lingering on his lips longer than it usually did. That would change, if he had his way. If had his way, a lot things would change. A human's trust was a delicate thing, he would do well to treat it as he would any other valuable thing. The last thing he wanted was to hear Lauren's mouth going at it…again.

Vergil shook his head. There were things to do before he could rest, even as wary as he was. Turning, he eyed the disgusting armor and his own well used blade. Such were the tasks of a half demon, especially one who went to war. _You're not just a fucking demon, you're a fucking human too!_ He shook his head. Lauren was a fool.

**Linda**

Lord Obrion was a fair lord, or so many claimed. The same could not be said for his brood however. The fate of their children had sent Queen Mab into hysterics when she learned of it. It would seem not even the mighty Obrion was immune to his high handed beliefs. The day his only daughter had left home was the day Queen Mab had finally admitted it. The child was not his, though he had known as much all along. He had treated the girl child as if she were his own. He had his own share of illegitimate children after all. What he had never expected was that the girl he treated as his own daughter would some day betray him, betray what he stood for. It was in her nature, her mother had claimed, but that had been little excuse. Using humans as mediums was not tolerated. Humans were destroying the world, they could not be used, could not be trusted.

They could not be subjugated. It was something he knew well.

Warily these thoughts swirled about Linda's mind like insects in a jar as she paced her office. Any time soon and the queen of hell would arrive. Any time soon and the messenger of the angels would be here as well. It was all a matter of playing with the hand she had been given. The fey grinned easily. Lauren was alive, there was no doubt about it. The human survived like a weed, anything short of total decimation and she kept living. The half demons would be enough to sweeten the deal. Already the queen of hell had one such servant, no doubt she would like more. How satisfying it would be when the human was finally dead.


	72. Taking Face

Okay covering my ass for a few seconds (again)…I don't own DMC nor do I own the Legacy of Kain series. (OR any of the other crossover characters.) I also thinkI like the pacing of thelast couple ofupdates, summer lethargy and my jobare kicking in. Let me know what you think about the update pacing! That being said, I can't believe Trish got _that_ bored waiting for Lor to show up again. Oh well, enjoy!

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**Raziel**

"Are you prepared? Has she been…understanding…of the situation?"

"Yes sir. Mother and my sister of infinity have both been agreeing. A rare thing in itself."

"Very well, my son, it shall be done at the most convenient time, when they will all be clambering for the heart of Gabriel. We shall take them unawares, as planned. I doubt our rouge brother's wife will be problematic, she still cannot leave the confines of her bed." The elder tipped his head back. The runic scrolling tracing his skin moved slowly in accordance with his old age. He spread the ivory wings adorning his back, stretching them slowly.

"I understand sir."

"Understand that failure will not be tolerated, keep a close eye on Jotheil, he's liable to do something foolish. As for you, although she may be your sister, you are to serve up the key. Do not fail us in this Raziel," the eldest whispered.

"…As you wish…however, mother's requested to speak with her."

"What?" The other's wings stretched to it fullest length, dwarfing the size of the being before him. Undaunted Raziel continued.

"Demanded actually. She said to continue to follow your plans. She will find a means to her own end."

"When did she decide this?" The elder replied, hissing.

"Quite recently."

"She may be mother of all but what of the heart? What of Gabriel?"

"Neither will be harmed, she promised as much when I inquired. You may do as you wish to my human sister, however, mother _will_ speak with her." Raziel paused for a moment, as if considering. "Mother has a way of getting what she wants. Right now she still desires what you desire, however she simply wishes to speak with my earthen bound sister."

"I see, forgive my rudeness," the elder replied after taking a deep breath. "The angels are indebted to your mother for her guidance, as we are to you. Please continue to serve and help us to our ends."

"…As you wish, Yanos."

**Dante and Trish**

"I don't like it," Dante pushed down hard on the hilt of the blade. It sliced cleanly through the apple.

"Suck it up and quite complaining," Trish replied. "Somebody needs to cut them up. I'm the one doing the real work. Or is dark knight Dante is too badass to cut up some tiny apples for me?"

"Not the apples, bimbo. The air, the night, the amazing lack of demons recently," he replied annoyed. It was almost unsettling. If things didn't pick up soon, he might have to start worrying about money, which was a rare thing in itself. Things were too quiet. He reached for another apple.

"Bimbo? Such romantic and endearing language for a knight," Trish scooped up the nearly empty bowl of apples Dante had already cut up. She made a face at him. "That's it?"

"Take it or leave it, I don't slice apples woman." Dante eyed the small knife he was using with distaste. "Why am I even using this? It wouldn't hurt a fly." It was like the calm before the storm. Dante toyed with the small blade sending end over end through the air. This was going to be one hell of a shit storm if things were this calm. No doubt the little fey job had a lot more to do with this than was apparent. It's the way things usually went.

Vergil had better be damn careful with that girl, the rumors about her weren't too pleasant in the fey circles. After hearing a few, he had a pretty good idea as to why the fey princess would want her there for a single night. Hell he'd be there if he was in the girl's shoes. Revenge was a petty motive, but most fey clung to petty things, but what this fey had done…it wasn't petty. That girl, she was a quiet one. There was nothing better than a Mexican stand off, though the little fey had better be careful playing with fire. He didn't particularly enjoy playing the role of 'bait', but knowing the girl, she had an ace up her sleeve. If she listened to anything he had told her, she'd have an ace up her sleeve. And if not, well, he'd made promise to Mary. He intended on keeping it. Dante shook his head, realizing Trish had been speaking to him the entire time.

" …Give me a break demon boy. In _your_ hands, that paring knife would probably kill a fly along with the demons it was flying over. Now get cutting." The bowl was sitting before him on the counter, waiting to be refilled. He eyed it annoyed. How the hell had she roped him into this again? Why the hell wasn't she shopping like she usually did? He eyed her, trying to remember. Trish's back was to him now. He smirked. That's right, she was wearing that skirt again…

"Screw that," Dante replied. He pulled alistor up from where it was leaning against the counter. Taking the bowl of uncut apples he threw them into the air. Drawing up alistor, the blade flashed. Every apple slice landed back in the bowl. "There. I cut up your damning apples. Satisfied?" Trish smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You missed one," she pointed to the counter where an apple lay, fallen from the bowl.

"Why the hell are you making applesauce anyways?" Dante muttered as he picked up the pairing knife again after letting alistor fall against the counter. He eyed it annoyed, before stabbing it into the cutting block unused.

"Because I've never done it before," Trish replied, "and because there's nothing better to do until Lor shows up." She stirred the thick hot syrup. It looked more green than yellow.

"Okay." Dante bit into the remaining apple thoughtfully. "Is it suppose to look that sick?"

"Be nice or it's all you'll be eating for the next few months," Trish replied sweetly, her eyes snapping. Dante smirked. He wondered if either of them would even be alive in the next few months to come. Something wasn't right…shaking his head, he pushed the thought aside. Why the hell wouldn't they be alright? What the hell could possibly happen that they _couldn't_ handle?

"What?" Trish asked, eyeing him warily. It only made his grin grow. Damn he loved it when she wore that skirt.

**Jothiel and Tiffany**

Josh held his child close. The bastards had finally let him see his child. How many times had he asked for this child? For this wife? For this happiness? How many times had he been denied it? A thousand, it seemed, hundreds of thousands. A fallen angel was not meant to shine with happiness in the face of his creator. His son. Since when was the mighty and arrogant Gabriel ever born to a fallen kindred? Was this action the basic, unsettling flaw of heaven he'd been aware of for some time?

But that wasn't the only reason this angel was exiled to Eden after the recreation of paradise. Only a true monster would destroy his own son…but Gabriel had already done something like that. Gabriel was a monster. God was not easily tricked and the punishment for success was devastating. Every angel in creation knew what Gabriel had done to his eldest child.

Josh looked into the deep hazel eyes of his baby boy. Sometimes, he almost believed he could see Gabriel lurking deep in their depths, mocking him. Smiling grimly Josh gently kissed his child. That bastard Gabriel…he would learn, even if it killed him, Jolithiel would teach Gabriel the value of a single soul, no matter how insignificant it may seem.

The host of heaven, it was a laugh. More like a cosmic game of favoritism, heaven left Josh's mouth with a sour taste. They would come for his son, he knew that, but he'd rather spend an eternity in hell then give up his human son. Some things, they would learn, just wouldn't go according to their little plan. No matter how hard they tried to steer the lives of those involved…

"Isn't he beautiful?" Tiffany breathed. Surprised Josh glanced up to his wife, how long had she been awake? He flashed her a smile as he returned his gaze to his child.

"As beautiful as the woman who birthed him." Tiffany laughed weakly.

"He has his daddy's eyes."

"Perhaps," Josh allowed. Of course, being human, she couldn't see it. Couldn't recognize the green in the deep brown. Josh briefly closed his eyes for a moment. Gabriel you bastard. He had never known Tiffany's role as a marked human would be to bear this child into the world. Gently he handed the now sleeping child over to his mother. "Tiffany, there's something I need to tell you."

"Of course Josh," Tiffany replied. She was still bed ridden from birthing their son. It was a constant reminder of what the angels had forced him to agree to. "But, first, have you seen Lor? Does she know about our son yet? She'd want to know, she's an aunt now." Smiling to herself, Tiffany gently rocked the baby. "I'm sorry," she added.

"For what?" Josh asked somewhat surprised. Even at the mention of Lor's name…his wife wasn't making this easy on him.

"I wasn't taking my medication. I may have said some things," Tiffany looked up to him. "I didn't mean it."

"I know," he sighed.

"Well," she prodded him after a moment.

"Well what?"

"What were you going to tell me?" Josh closed his eyes briefly, summoning the courage. He had to do this, hopefully Tiffany would understand. He cared too much for her and the baby not to. Still the thought of doing what those mighty angelic puppeteers desired, it made him sick.

"I have been given a job," he began.

**Vali**

The queen of hell was pleased. The fey was a fool, but she was pleased. Gaining so much in one blow, even if the angels were to be her allies, it was well met. She was going to tear down the barriers between the worlds and not even the angels would lift a finger to stop her. How delightfully unanticipated.

However, her majesty was also annoyed. That half human dog, it was high time she brought him to heel. The fool was planning something. No wonder he hadn't wanted to give up the human. She had been right in her belief but perhaps for the wrong reasons. Vali didn't enjoy being wrong, nor did she enjoy a half demon pulling the wool over her eyes. She should have known the dog was up to something, he was a son of that accursed Sparda, the fool who had set this into motion. It hadn't taken much on Sparda's account, just a simple refusal to die.

Vali sneered as she eyed her celebrating troops. Like father, like son, one supposed. Suddenly a though flitted through her mind. A thought. A single granule. It put a silky lecherous smile on the lips of the queen of hell. There were worse fates than death. The half demon, he believed he had suffered. However, he didn't know the depths of true suffering, not yet. But he would. Oh he would. Laughing the queen of hell strode slowly through out her halls, scheming. Never had hell's ruler been more joyful. After all, like father, like son.


	73. Sleeping Doll

**Vergil**

Slowly Vergil closed his eyes. He could feel his body slowly relaxing, the aches and pains receding as sleep crept in. It had taken him longer than anticipated to clean all the armor. The remains of General Barion were determined to avenge their master in any way possible. Lauren however, was still sleeping soundly and he no longer had the energy to drag her back to the human realm. She'd have to spend the night in hell, barrier shifting was difficult when he was fully healed. He couldn't risk it now. The opinion wasn't likely to change either, not until he got some rest. Even if it meant he'd have to share his bed with a freezing human tonight. Today had been longer than desired.

He'd return her back home when he woke up again. No doubt Lauren would be asleep for a while, as long as it took her body to fight off the blitz. She'd be out longer than himself in any case, he had some time, though she was absorbing an alarming amount of his aura in the process. In her sleep Lauren began to thrash, in the throes of a blitz induced nightmare it seemed. Her hand flailed against his shoulder softly while she murmured in dream language.

The damn freezing pain in his ass. Sighing, he chose to ignore it. Forced to sleep with a human, tonight was going to be very long. He'd slept with his share of humans, but there was nothing to be had out of this. He wasn't quite sure what he had done in a previous life to deserve this. He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything in _this_ life to deserve this. The human was lucky he was tired enough not to care either way, otherwise she would have wound up sleeping on the floor.

Again her fist knocked against his shoulder. Damn stupid human, he was too tired to deal with her right now. Annoyed he turned onto his side, allowing her to continue her nightmare uninterrupted. Thank hell for small favors, she was asleep, had she been awake her damning mouth would have been going at it again. There was only one bed in the room and he'd be damn if the human was having it all to herself. Again, he closed his eyes. _The stupid woman…_

**Lauren Blitzing**

_Everything bleeds Lauren_.

"Everything?"

_Everything_, she replied, a wry smile on her lips. _Did you know that everything also cries?_

"I don't cry," I said proudly. "My dad doesn't cry. You don't cry either."

_But I have, your father has. And you will cry Lauren, not now perhaps, but you will._

"No I won't," I laughed. "I'm going to be the toughest bouncer around! Bouncers never cry! I asked Kou and he said-"

_Everything cries and everything bleeds Lauren,_ she interrupted me quietly. _Even demons cry._

"Demons? Really?" To that, Lady Mary had chuckled, her odd eyes dancing, though they seemed somewhat lost in thought.

_Really_. I never completely understood what she meant. And it bothers me that I don't think I ever will. But she was right, I did cry.

"Dad? Oh god Dad! Dad!" Coughing, he grunted, the blood trickled down his chin.

_Damn kid, give me a break I've just been shot_. He voice was quiet like it usually was, even when he kidded, which was rare. I'll never understand why he made a joke out of being shot to death.

"You're bleeding. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god." I was covered with his blood. He shouldn't have been bleeding like this. He was loosing too much blood, too quickly. My hands were soaked with it as I tried to stem the flow.

_It's okay._ Sion stilled my hands. There's not much you can do kid.

"Shut up!" I screamed at him. I realized then that I was crying. My vision was wavering. He grunted in pain as I pushed down on his wounds, my hands shaking. The shooter was long gone by then, a good thing too, because I probably would have killed him.

_Some things are meant to happen in this life weather you will it or not_, Dad reached up and brushed away my tears. _Promise me you'll take care of Dominique and Tiffany._

"Shut the fuck up!" I snapped. "You're going to be fine!" He hit pretty hard for a dying man. I stared at him shocked and silent, holding my cheek. He never hit me, not unless we where training.

_Promise me Lauren_, he demanded, his blue animal eyes quite. _Take care of our family. _His eyes were losing their shine, the light inside them was dimming. I could feel the tears rolling down my face. He never expected to live through it. Sion never tried. I'll never understand why he didn't fight. He was a fighter. Why didn't he fight it? Why did he leave me all alone in this world?

"I promise."

**Vergil**

Ruefully Vergil pulled the shirt on over his head. Last night had been a stupid decision, he should've returned her home before sleeping. Who knew what had been swapped between their auras? He glanced over to the girl. His eyes strayed to the blade resting on the nightstand next to her. He'd been sorely tempted to use it on her. Especially when he'd woken up to the human clawing at his side during one of her blitz nightmares. She'd cleanly torn off a layer of his skin before he'd managed to knock her awake. Apparently he'd hit her a bit too hard, she had passed out a moment latter. Then he'd woken up this morning with Lauren curled around him. What a pain…at least she was warmer. Though her subconsciously treating him like her damn teddy bear was beyond aggravating.

There was still so much to do before she could be of any real use to him. His own impaired judgment last night was not going to make this task any easier. Sighing Vergil headed towards the small antique beau for his jacket. It was going to be a long couple of days, he'd already received another summons from Vali. Not to mention he'd spoken with Dante earlier. The fey were planning something for Lauren. If Vali was involved in it, then things were worse than they should've been.

"Crod," Vergil summoned the demon. Presently, the small demon appeared behind him in a cloud of miasma. "You're to watch my rooms while I return Lauren to her world. Should Vali summon me, inform her I will be back shortly." Vergil turned to the demon. He was surprised to see a trickle of black blood dripping from the little demon's mouth. A long wound trailed down his throat, as if someone had been in the process of cutting it when Vergil had summoned him. "Who did this?"

"I am not able to say my lord," the small demon knelt before Vergil on trembling legs. Crod's serpentine eye trailed to Lauren, still asleep on the bed and swaddled in the black sheets. She hadn't stirred once and she laid still enough to look like a doll waiting to be picked up and played with. The demon's good eye widened with surprise and fascination.

Vergil studied the demon before him annoyed. There was silver peeping out of the gouge in his throat. Vergil was willing to bet it was the same silver that had been used on himself so recently by Thalis. So the Queen was that curious hm? Well, what the little demon before him didn't know wouldn't hurt him. His ignorance might even work to his advantage. No doubt, after speaking with the fey princess Vali wasn't entirely unaware of his scheming. What the demon assumed could dissway her from his scent. A small smile tugged at his lips. The look on Vali's face when she extorted Crod for more information would be worth the ridicule.

"I see. Stay here. You're no use to me dead. When I return we will discuss more of who attacked you. I do not particularily like liars, Crod, nor do I like it when my possessions are left in plain view of the Queen and her attention to my personal affairs are unwelcome. You would do well to remember that." Vergil carefully picked up Lauren. Crod blanched, but bowed deeper all the same.

"It will be done as you wish, Lord Nero."


	74. Interruption

New update, there will be another one soon, maybe even this week! Hmm...it's been brought to my attention by my buddy Ice that reviews are getting lost. So um...i don't really know what's causing this, but I'll see if i can figure it out. Any ideas, info., etc. wouldbe a big help. (What can i say? I am the bane of techonology's existance. T.T) Ah well, as usual, read, enjoy! I'll try to get on the techie stuff.

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**Detective Brant-The Present**

"Wait a minute," Detective Brant interrupted unable to remain silent any longer. He leaned back in his chair, unloosening his tie. "You're saying you went to hell? In the most literal sense? That you even stayed the night there?" He tossed his pen onto the note filled writing pad, somewhat annoyed. Perhaps he shouldn't have ruled out insanity so early in the game. The young woman raised an eyebrow, staring at him flatly. She tapped ashes into the overflowing ashtray. The handcuffs barely let her reach even that small distance. The clock on the wall read two in the morning.

"Did I stutter at any point?"

"The kidnapping with the Order, fine, whatever, I've seen it before. But hell? C'mon Miss, cut the bullshit. I want to know what happened _tonight_. Quit feeding me this irrelevant crap."

"Patience is a virtue Detective. I'm telling you what you need to know." She chuckled, toying with the dwindling cigarette in her hand. "Trust me." Brant eyed the woman before him. For her part she returned his gaze calmly, raising an eyebrow as she pulled on the cigarette.

"Miss Star, are you aware of the consequences of lying during an interrogation?" She snorted.

"Are you aware that you're a heart attack waiting to happen?"

"Excuse me?" Brant stared at her. Damn kids these days… She sighed, grinding out her cigarette in the ashtray.

"Do you want the rest of my story or not?"

"So long as you get to the point Miss Star. I don't see what demons, angels and fairies have to do with you taking out half the police force." She shrugged, a slight smile on her face.

"You forgot about the vampires," She replied coolly, eying him. "You'll see. Be patient, I'm getting there." She flashed him a look, "I'd get to the point faster if you'd stop interrupting."

"Continue your story Miss Star," Brant replied impatiently. She sighed, reaching for the cigarette pack.

"Whatever you want. Where was I anyways?" Brant leaned forward, lighting her cigarette. He considered giving her the damn thing. She was using it more than he was tonight.

"Hell. You were in hell."

"Thanks," she drew back, the tip of the cancer stick blazed orange as she sucked on it. "Right," she exhaled, her eyes going thoughtful, "You know someone told me once that hell was your life gone wrong. It was from a movie I think." She chuckled, "Yeah, I was in hell. Like usual Vergil was good for his word. I woke up at home. The next day, Dante told me of Linda's job. It was so obvious even Lucia knew it was a set up, which is saying something. I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to end my business with Linda once and for all. The next week and a half felt like centuries, I couldn't even visit Tiffany, I was _that_ eager to get the fey out of my life. However, I didn't realize that the demons of hell would be there. Or angels."

"Miss Star-" Brant began again. She paused for a moment, sighing.

"Yes detective?"

"Demons and angels?" The woman eyed him, clearly annoyed. She licked her bottom lip as she sat back.

"As I was saying, the next week felt like a century. But when everything hit the fan," she whistled, "boy was it one hell of a storm. After all, hell is your life gone wrong Detective."


	75. PrePandemonium at Pandora's

**King of the Fey of Light**

"Lord." The steward knelt before his lord on a thick carpet of leaves. He was his lord's personal attendant, the king's favored troll as it were.

"Yes?"

"Your attention has been requested my lord," the steward paused for a moment, wary of continuing, "by a human."

"A human?" Obrion turned sharply, studying the kneeling steward with keen eyes. "_What_ human? What fool dare disobeys my laws?"

"None dare my lord," the stewad was quick to address this issue, "she has requested you of her own means. She seeks audience with you about a matter she would not disclose. How she arrived in fairie, none can say, but she claims that she will not leave until she has spoken thus with you, my lord." Briefly Obrion closed his eyes, a small wry grin touching his lips. So, it was time.

"Very well, bring her to me, unharmed in any fashion. I would not suffer a guest to be injured by ill hospitality."

"Lord?" the steward asked, surprised. Humans were forbidden to the world of fairie. Their use as entertainment had long since been banned. They were no longer guests of the fey.

"That will be all," Lord Obrion dismissed the servant with a casual wave of his hand. Turning he returned to his contemplation of the intricate silver work he had set his best craftsmen to. It was a crown, made of silver that shown like the midnight moon. The one who would don the royal crown was yet to be found in Lord Obrion's court. His majesty was not getting any younger after three thousand years. Most of his children where fools, very few held the promise or mettle to be a king. It was a difficult task, choosing a successor. Yes it was high time to end this foolishness.

**Dante and Trish**

It was go day. Rebellion had been sharpened to a hone. The fey bitch had it coming. No one used him as bait, the magnitude of it all was astounding, even Vergil had been taken somewhat aback when all the puzzle pieces where laid together. Which was saying something, it was hard to fool one Sparda, let alone two. …He'd have been there by now killing things if the damn woman wasn't taking all of eternity and a day. Dante stood at the base of the stairs, waiting impatiently. "Woman what the hell is taking you so long?" he yelled up.

"Every smart girl accessorizes," Trish appeared at the top of the stairs. She smirked, joining him. She'd been getting extra bullets for the shot gun. Not like she didn't make a habit of carrying around the Sparda sword on these little jonts. Women.

"Unless you're accessorizing for me, it's a waist of time," he growled, raising an eyebrow.

"Only in your dreams, Sparda," Trish smirked.

**Lauren**

Pandora's was the same as it always is. There's booze, there's gambling, there's drugs, there's pounding music, and the company employed strip girls. Doesn't _anything_ in this place ever change? I decided to go early. I must want out more than I thought. Getting inside was easy. None of the old bouncers cared to stop me and they warned all the new bouncers away. Nice to know I left an impression.

Pandora's is packed, a five story club and somehow Linda finds enough fey to pack it with. I don't remember this many fey in the city before. I'd smell a set up, even if Dante hadn't warned me before hand. Oh well, more ass to kick latter on. I crave the idea as much as I do raw cookie dough. I don't know why I ever liked this place. The pounding techno rock is doing a number on my migraine.

"Black Lauren!" Immediately the crowd around me goes silent, as the fey ease away. Now dammit, how am I suppose to be ninja-ish if every bozo here knows I'm in the room? Stumbling up to my left, a familiar face slaps me on the shoulder. Tweak Ribson, he hasn't changed a bit the lucky bastard. Tweak is half human, half fey, one of Dallicus's harem bastards, born years before Linda decided to build her own court in the city. Hell, Tweak has to be over two hundred years old, the fey grow slower than grass, but for all intents and purposes he's around my age. Comparatively speaking anyways.

"Hi Tweak," I reply dryly, rubbing my forehead. My poor, shattered window of opportunity, I shall miss thee.

"How've you been?" Tweak asks, yelling over the pounding rock music, smirking. Gotta love Tweak, he's a real ham and a pretty decent guy. He hates Linda almost as much as I do. Poor smuck, he's actually related to her.

"Not bad. You?"

"As well as expected, but you know this place," Tweak shrugs. "Can I buy you a drink?" That depends on whether or not you're part of the set up, old pal. I hope for his sake, Tweak's smart enough to get out before everything goes up in flames.

"Not really, I'm looking-"

"Alright then a drink it is!" Tweak cheers, overriding me, yanking on my arm. Something's up, Tweak's acting like a smurf on prozac. I decide to trust him, rather than listen to the smart cautionary side of my brain. Discreetly I glance over my shoulder as Tweak pulls me though the crowd to the bar. Oh wonderful, royal guards, five of Linda's fey bodyguards. They must have been following me the moment I entered the building. Huh. Linda's getting smarter, she must have stopped shooting crack.

"What's going on?" I ask Tweak casually, as I take a seat at bar.

"Nothing good," Tweak replies quietly. His voice is nearly inaudible over the ruckus of the place. "She's setting you up." Well, I see Tweak's still as reliable as he always is.

"I know Tweak," I reply as the bar tender hands the two of us our beers.

"No you don't," Tweak replies flatly. "It's not just her Lauren, she's made some dangerous allies." Tweak is probably one of the only people, other than Vergil, within the fey circle who calls me Lauren and not Black Lauren. Another reason I like him.

"So?" I ask coolly. I'm hell bent on taking back my life. If I have to die to do it I will. Not that I'm particularly looking forward to that aspect of the whole 'taking-my life-back' bid.

"I-" Suddenly Tweak shuts up and glances over his shoulder, checking to see if we're really alone. I don't know why he bothered, the minute we sat down at the bar, it cleared out. The way the fey act you'd think I was carrying the plague. "I think she's planning on killing you Lauren, and this time I don't think she going to give you a chance to survive. I still don't know how you survived her last ploy," Tweak shook his head, staring at his drink. I wonder if he'd believe me if I said a half demon and leeches. "Whoever her allies are, they seem to have something to gain if they let her kill you. It even might have been part of her negotiations," Tweak continues, head bent, whispering. "Aaron asked me to inform you that the blackguards have your back, when everything goes to hell." Aaron's helping me? Why?

"Are you serious?" I ask sharply. Aaron and the rest of the blackguards can't afford to piss Linda off. We all came to her for something, and that something is what she uses to manipulate her precious human blackguards, to kill her fey opponents without hesitation. If this doesn't go well, Aaron and company can expect hell for the rest of their service in Linda's messed up fey court. Dammit, I didn't ask them for their help and I don't want it. I don't want the responsibility of caring what happens to them.

"I think you'd be amazed at how much one can piece together from the grapevine," Tweak adds quietly.

"I don't want help," I snap. "I don't need it." I already have someone watching my back. I have about five different someones who all planned on being here to kick a lot of ass with me. Then again…I am here earlier than planned.

"Don't be stubborn," Tweak begs me. "You can't take her on your own."

"Unfortunately, stubborn is all Black Lauren succeeds at." Tweak literally blanches as we turn around. Right behind us is Dallicus, smirking like he actually has a clue, behind him are four royal guard fey. Wow, the welcome wagon just beat Vergil down in the asshole contest. "You're coming with us, Black Lauren," Dallicus tells me, leering. He's so close I can smell his magic with every breath. It's like cheap cologne only worse, because it smells like the bottom of a sewer. "My life mate wishes to discuss matters with you." I snort. And kill me in the process if I'm not careful.

"Whatever." I throw back the rest of my beer before sliding off of my stool. I hope someone else other than me is here, because if not, it's going to get pretty messy. Not that I intend on leaving this place in one piece when I leave it. Dammit, this is a new outfit too. Well…at least I won't get demon blood all over it. That's a bonus…I guess….

**Vergil**

Vergil stalked through the quiet halls of hell. Vali was reigning in her troops. Damn the black bitch, she was going for the heart, no doubt it had been part of her negotiations with the fey princess. It was no coincidence that the royal fey had hired every half breed demon in the city. She was assisting Vali in her conquest, choosing to be on the left hand of the devil so to speak, than in the black bitch's path. However, one had to wonder why the angels would permit this…unless they were aware of Lauren. Vergil gritted his teeth together, growling lowly in his throat. How did they know? With as much of his aura that human had consumed, not even Vali had suspected as much when she'd laid eyes on Lauren. Was it the cast off then, or was it another? Perhaps angel eyes and ears could be found even in the walls of hell…

The conditions were too perfect. Already he knew that stubborn human would be at that damning fey court, Pandora's Box. She wanted her life back, or so she claimed. Her revenge was perhaps the first thing he'd ever seen Lauren take to with silent dedication. Pathetically enough, it was also the first time he'd seen that human shut up for longer than an hour. He would have to tread lightly or a deadly game of winner take all would begin. He wasn't quite ready for that, much as he hated to admit it. There were still things to do before the real race began.

Easily Vergil drew yamoto from his side, unsheathing it. This was the place. A single cut, one that had taken him time out of mind to master, and the barrier shuddered, cut. The hole opened to the human realm, or rather, the fey princess's twisted version of it. As silently as he had opened it, the gap in the barrier separating the worlds shuddered close behind him. It was getting easier to do such things, Lauren's aura was a deadly facilitator of energies or so he had discovered. It was almost too easy to fully rely on it, something he was wary of. A demon relying on the essence traded off from a human, he couldn't afford to utilize something gained by such a manner in the ordeal to come. No, in the war to come, he could rely on no one but himself, as it had been since he'd been a boy.

The club's air was thick with the scent of magic and heavy with smoke. It was disgusting. Humans and fey alike danced to the grating, pounding music. He felt out with his aura. There she was, the damn human. Already she had made her way to the fey's seat of operations. That damn stubborn human, did she really think she could take on the fey princess herself?

If there were downsides to absorbing Lauren's aura, there were also benefits to be had, though they were few and far between. Reaching out further, he felt Dante's presence, an angry violent red orange color that painted the back of Vergil's skull like a fallen paint can. As always, Trish was with him, a golden phoenix. It was a shame she was merely a construct, the same as the bird. Of the two of them, she held more hope, more potential. Surprisingly, the dhampire and bird were already there as well, one as dark and thick as blood, the other a light, dusty blue green.

Sighing, Vergil began to push his way through the thick crowd. There was no doubt in his mind that Lauren would need his help. The pathetic human always did, whether or not she admitted it, especially tonight of all nights. And if she forgot about the last artifact in her quest for revenge it would take Vali the entirety of a day to topple the fool angels that had trusted her enough to bargain with her. Already he could smell the dark scent of demons. Vali had begun her assault on the barrier, the clock was ticking.

Damn that human, he'd been a fool to let her come here. She'd be a sitting target for any who chose to aim for her. Now not only the demons but the angels as well. They knew. Tonight was going to be a very interesting night.


	76. Fey Politics

Update! Enjoy!

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**Lauren-5th floor Pandora (Linda's office)**

They were smart enough not to pat me down or ask me to give up my weapons. Which is saying something, because most royal guards are complete idiots. They're kinda like pure breed dogs, beautiful as hell, but stupid as pond scum. In some cases, they're dumber than that. Its literally impossible for me to tell the different between idiots 1 through 111. My armed escort left me at the door to Linda's office. I'm a little surprised Dallicus didn't stay. Though his leering had gotten on my nerves. I was an inch from ripping his eyes out.

When I entered Linda's office, she was already waiting for me, the heart dancing between her fingers. It was a crystal-like vial filled with a reddish-pink liquid, Vergil's last artifact. He nailed it's description head on…after adding that if I dropped it he would nail my head to Vali's throne. …And he wants me to trust him. The last artifact, and I can say goodbye to all this demon crap. Not that I'd be alive right now if Vergil hadn't been there. Between the Order and Linda, I had definitely needed some help. … … … …I'm never admitting that out loud. Vergil would rub it in my face till the day I died and get a kick out of it every time.

"I suppose you're wondering why I didn't have them pat you down?" Linda asks, drawing my attention. I give her a look as I light up a cigarette. Do I look like I care what her reasoning is? I didn't come here because Aaron asked nicely, nor did I come here to play games. I came here to end this, once and for all.

"Get to the point." Linda smirks at me, leaning back to sit on her desk top.

"Your partner, the half demon, he desires the heart?" Hm…she's fishing. I wonder why. Who the hell is she working with? They're obviously smart enough to have figured out I'm 'working' with Vergil. He and Dante both were a little vague on the details when I spoke with them. Go figure, they didn't fill in the loopholes. Again.

"What do you care?" I shrug. "_I'm_ the one who found it for you." Not that I had any idea what the hell that thing was when I had first gotten my hands on it. That had been the real kicker, when Vergil had described what the heart looked like, I realized I'd seen it before.

"As you say," Linda pauses a moment to study me, her mouth drawn up into a cruel smile. She thinks she's already won. How arrogant. "You know why you're here, don't you?" she asks, sliding off her desk. She's wearing another one of her hooker business suits. Classy. How many of those things does she have? In her hands she's now holding a vial of black liquid I recognize, having traded it for the heart.

"What are going to do after you blitz me this time?" I ask warily.

"Come now," Linda chides me, her eyes dancing, "try to look as if it concerns you that my life mate will use you as a play thing for the rest of your extremely short, blitzed life." She pauses for a moment, tilting her head to the left. "Even the angels won't lift a hand to help you, Lauren." ….Well, I gotta hand it to her, I wasn't quite expecting to hear that.

"Like I give a shit," I snort. The angles want me dead? That's a new one…then again Linda is addicted to crack.

"Do me the honor of dying gracefully," Linda comments softly. In an instant she closes the space between us. Despite her outfit, she moves fast, however the needle plunges into empty space. Immediately I draw Agni and Rudra as I lunge forward from my kneeling position. I nick her, a strait line two inches below her collar bones. Recoiling, she hisses, her eyes raging with a blitz storm. Her royal guards are on me in a New York minute, swarming through the door like locusts. Surprisingly, Linda stops them.

"Leave her," she growls. Is it possible the crack whore is actually going to finish something she started? ….I doubt it.

"I'll eat you alive," I hiss. I think I may actually enjoy physically disfiguring Linda. Peachy, Mr. Personality's defects are rubbing off on me. Drawing herself up, Linda smirks. That can't be a good.

The next thing I know flames leap to life, coating every surface of the room. The temperature shoots up to the mid hundreds and the amount of blitz in the air is making me gag. It takes two heartbeats for my vision to go blurry. Damn her, that's cheap.

I grind my teeth together and try to focus my wavering vision on Linda. Not to brilliant of a fighter. I grew up with a sister who never fully learned to control her pyrokinesis, a little fire's not going to scare me into making a bad move. Shit. Agni's edge collides with Linda's needle, just in time to crack it. The move draws her advance up short.

"Stop resisting me Lauren, you know you're going to die," Linda whispers to me. Her eyes are alive with blitz as she forces me down onto both knees. Like one wasn't good enough for her? The liquid blitz is dripping from the broken needle and the feel of that crap on my skin is enough to make me want to hurl. "Beg for your life," she croons to me. "Please. Let me see you suffer."

"Bitch," I snap. I nail her in the nose with my elbow, pushing her away from me. It's enough to break her concentration, the flames abruptly disappear. So does the nauseating blitz stench. Thank hell for small favors. My vision slowly begins to clear up a bit.

"You filthy human," Linda spits at me, stumbling backwards. Her black-red blood is running from her broken nose in a torrent as I rise to my feet. Wordlessly I lash out with a strait leg kick, hitting her mid stomach. The kick sends her flying into her desk. "Restrain her!" Linda grunts. Man what a hack, I knew she'd do this.

This time I get the royal treatment as six royal guards 'restrain me' at once. Agni and Rudra find their way embedded into Linda's desk as I get casually thrown across the room. Her boys don't quite rough me up the way I thought they would. Maybe she's serious about the whole Harem thing. As per usual, they force me to my knees, by then my kidneys are ready to call it quits after one kick too many. One of the fey guards has his hand in my hair, so I'm forced to watch Linda lurk closer with her blitz needle. It's almost like watching a B rated horror movie. She glares down at me, wiping away the blood. Aw poor thing, looks like she ruined her suit.

"That was very stupid Lauren," she snarls, pressing the needle tip into my neck hard enough to break the skin. "I was going to honor your employment contract after your death, however now I will personally see that every person you ever cherished dies slowly. Do you have any last words?"

I stare at her flatly. As part of my employment negotiations with Linda, I forced her to agree to never harm my family, in any manner, no matter what happened between the two of us. Linda had agreed by name rights, legally binding in fey country. This same bitch just said she was going to kill my family. Big fucking mistake. I wasn't going to do this to her, I don't believe in relying on others, but I can't allow her to do this. I'm sick of her two faced bullshit. It's high time to play my get-out-of-jail-free card. Hm…do I have any last words? You know, actually, yeah, I got a few.

"Lord Obrion, I request your audience." It's beautiful. Linda's eyes go wide as golf balls as she stares at me, the blood draining from her face.

"You wouldn't dare," she breaths, pulling me roughly to my feet with her free hand. "You don't know how." The needle is never more than an inch from my neck. I can smell her blood on the air she's so close. I raise an eyebrow and remain silent. For not knowing how I just did a spectacular job of summoning her father. She clenches her jaw.

"You meddling wench! Meat sack! I'll cut-" Linda starts, the needle inching uncomfortably close.

"Enough." His voice is unlike anything I've ever heard. They're true, those old legends, the rulers of the fey are _interesting_. Linda's hand freezes a millimeter from injecting me with enough blitz to fuel a tanker truck and she sucks in a large amount of air. HA! She never saw this coming. It was perhaps the biggest secret I've been keeping.

In exchange for sparing the lives of five of his family members, fey 'enemies' of Linda's she sent me to kill, Lord Obrion gave me a single boon. I've been keeping the memory of that event buried safe in the deepest part of my memories. Double ha, you back stabbing bitch! It's a wonder Linda didn't find it the first time she jacked me up on the blitz. That same ride ultimately put me in a six month coma. The whore mind fucked me and she still didn't find it. I'll still be laughing in my grave at this rate.

"You," Linda stares at him, slowly backing away. I think she's actually beginning to panic. She drops the blitz needle on the ground as she sinks into a graceful curtsy. Her face has gone three shades shy of pure white. So this is Linda terrified eh? _Beautiful_, _fucking beautiful._ "But this is my court! You can't-" He silences her with a single look. "Father…" she tries again, her voice is desperate.

"Silence," Obrion growls, his eyes orange like the flames that just torched the room as he glares at Linda. "I have been summoned here by a human who gained a boon from me, the king of the lightling fey, on the misguided direction of your orders. It would be wise to hold your tongue." Amazingly, Linda shuts her mouth. That's a first. Obrion turns to me, taking me in. His skin is as green as moss and he too, is wearing a nice business suit. I bet the fey get a group discount for those things. Obrion, however, is no one to fuck around with. Especially when it comes to deals. I hope I know what I'm doing. "And now human," he growls, "we finish the matter of the boon I granted you."

**Vergil, Dante, and Trish-1st floor Pandora**

Vali had arrived. The frantic humans and fey non combatants were nearly tearing the place down around themselves in their desperate attempts to flee. Surprisingly enough, the fey princess's soldiers were preparing for battle. Did this imply that not all was firmly pat regarding agreement between Vail and the fey royalty? Then he saw them, the magnificently white armor clad soldiers, unmistakably the King Obrion's own. They were intermixed with the other more city bound fey…protecting them perhaps? What was the fey king doing at this particular junction? That damn human, no doubt she had known, or at the very least had a clue, that this particular change in plans would occur.

Either that or she was the reason this change in plans had occurred. Damn the stupid woman. Grinding his teeth together, he unsheathed his sword as the gateway between hell and earth grew wider. They were swarming, Vali's precious army of demon upon demon. Instinct kicked in, his body became guardedly relaxed, yamoto's tip barely brushing the earth, both ready for the quick reactions that would be needed in the next few minutes. He could already see Vali, dressed in a continual snow storm, at the front of her ranks. It looked like the game of winner takes all would begin wether or not he was ready for it. And he had yet to find the Scion of balance. A silver streak faintly brushed his cheek, leaving a small scratch that healed almost instantly. The bullets began to topple the first rank of demons pushing their way through the portal. Vergil glanced over his shoulder, slightly annoyed.

"You better go find that human of your's Verg," Dante smirked, ebony and ivory dancing in his hands. "Do worry, I'll leave a few of them for you."

"You're beginning to get annoying," Vergil replied flatly, turning. As much as he hated to leave Dante the enjoyment of killing his numerous enemies, his brother was right. Very well, he'd find that stupid woman and wring her neck as he dragged her out of this disgusting bar. Though where he'd drag her to, he wasn't quite sure yet. He was falling short on safe places to hind the damn woman.

"Ah well, pay back's a bitch ain't it?" Dante asked casually as he sauntered past. A moment latter, the construct, Trish, joined him, their father's sword in her hands. It would have appalled and angered him once to see the sight. Now he no longer had the time for it. Let the construct have it, he didn't need his father's sword to have killed as many as he had. Lauren, he had to find Lauren in this chaotic mess.

"Only when you're involved," Vergil replied dryly as he strode away.


	77. Collision

**When Fey and Demons Collide**

**Lucia, Rayne, and Tweak-3rd floor Pandora's**

She let the body fall heavily to the ground, there the poor girl moaned, unconscious. Mmmm…bloody Mary, half fey by the taste of it. Rayne licked her lips clean, unaware that she was purring. Tonight was going to be the most fun she'd had in a while.

"You killed the bar tender," a voice stated.

"Not yet," Rayne replied throatily, turning. She eyed the new comer. He looked half fey as well. What a feast tonight was turning out to be. His eyes widened as she smirked at him, slowly advancing. "You however," Rayne purred, "might not be so lucky."

"You'll have to pardon me Empress, but I don't have time for this," the man replied, backing up. He was cute, deep cinnamon skin, black curly hair, blazen grey eyes. Rayne paused for a moment, studying him. Now why did he look so familiar? Rayne never forgot a face, names rarely, but not faces. His, she'd never seen before, yet he knew her well enough by reputation. Who did he remind him of?

"Unfortunately for you, all I have is time, son of Dallicus," Rayne replied. Her reaction was lighting as he reached for whatever it was he kept in the back of his belt. Her chain whip wrapped him up like a nice little present, ready for tasting. Easily Rayne sat in his lap. His blood smelled so wonderful, his heart beat was like thunder in her ears. Amazingly, it wasn't the panicked drumbeat she was use to hearing. The kid had guts.

"You crazy bitch, my father has never acknowledged my existence," the fey boy snapped, struggling against the chain. Was that bitterness she heard?

"Mmm too bad. Before I leave you for dead, allow me to acknowledge you. What is your name fey boy?" Rayne purred, nuzzling his neck. She could feel her fangs hardening, lengthening in anticipation. A son of Dallicus, hm? What he lacked in his father's arrogance was made up for in manners, Rayne found she liked the change. That fey bastard, Dallicus, he was going to die tonight if she had her way. The son could live, for now, she supposed. Especially since he hated his bastard father, it was something she could relate to. She'd killed her own father.

"Tweak," he replied, his voice sounding chocked and airy as she made herself more comfortable in his lap. Rayne smirked. Most men sounded that way when she sat in their laps. "Please don't. I have to help someone." Ignoring his plea, Rayne bit in. Oh he was very good, a strong fey. Stronger than most. The magic blitz in his blood was nearly that of a full blooded fey.

"Tweak," she murmured, working at the small wound. "You taste good." No more than a minute latter, she was interrupted.

"Rayne, knock it off, you've drunk enough to satisfy a dozen vampires," Lucia stated archly. "The demons are here already. It's beginning. They'll be more fey to drain down on the first floor." Demon blood was not this tempting. Demons did not look this cute. Still she was here to carve things up. She could always find this one latter. Sighing Rayne stood up, releasing Tweak with a crack of her chain. He stared up at the two red heads, looking dazed.

"Stay alive precious," Rayne purred to him. Blood that good was rare. She'd decapitate anything stupid enough to ruin such a valuable source of nutrition. She turned to Lucia, who rolled her eyes, having taken in Rayne's already blood soaked outfit.

"You're sickening." Lucia sighed at Rayne's smirk. "Let's go. The others are waiting and I want to kick Lauren's pathetic ass before demons beat me to it." Turning Lucia launched herself from the nearby railing. Rayne shook her head, Lucia must have been hard up on cash.

"This sickness is the only useful thing I ever inherited from my father," Rayne murmured, eyeing the unfolding battle scene below. It was nothing she'd ever care to tell the human-demonness. Kagan, the bastard she would never claim as her father, was the vampire who had raped and killed her mother. He then proceeded to kill the entirety of her mother's human family, all by policy. Even the memory of it was enough to summon the bloodlusting rage.

"Welcome to the club," the boy muttered behind her. Turning she watched him stagger to his feet, holding his healing neck. His sharp eyes were studying her, interested. "You're here to help Lauren?"

"I'm here because I want to be here," Rayne replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "Helping Lauren is just another excuse to kill more of your kind."

"Whatever," Tweak replied unconvinced. "The humans in black trench coats are allies, try to spare them."

"You're wasting my time." Rayne jumped up onto the railing, eyeing the scene below. It was chaos, utter chaos. Demon's where flooding the bar's dance floor. Already their dead bodies where piling around Dante's feet. Magic was heavy in the air. Oh yes, she'd kill anything that dared get close to her new life-long blood donor. It really was that difficult to find such a pure source. She smirked. There were a lot of demons swarming the bar, making the enormous place feel small and closterphobic. This was going to be fun.

**Vergil-2nd floor**

These whelps were wasting his time. Already Vali was making her way to the fey's office. He still had three more floors to go. Slashing yet again, a goatling fell, cut in two. Demon blood caked his coat and sword, and this was just the beginning.

Sidestepping, Vergil let yamoto fly. It pinned several bloody maris to the far wall, killing them. Those who were foolish charged, assuming that without a sword he was a meandering stripling. Easily he snapped the neck of the first demon, throwing it's dead body into several other fey and demons stupid enough to continue their headlong charge into death. Lashing with out a gauntleted fist he crushed the face plating of a sin scythe. They were part of the more wary demons who had held back waiting for what they assumed to be, the most opportune moment to attack. Fools all of them.

A nightmare lurked above. He could sense it. How had Vali dug up one of those relics? Descending, it surrounded him in all it's nightmarish glory. A moment latter it died as several of aura blades cut through it's gooey externals. Everywhere he turned another weakling was waiting. The line was endless and he was tired of wasting time. He smirked at enemy infested floor. Vergil released his iron control of his aura completely, if only for a moment, letting it run rampant. The resulting shockwave threw all would be enemies from the path to his sword. A great majority of them where killed on contact with his aura.

Easily, he yanked yamoto from the wall as he surveyed the gore splattered room. No doubt a few of Vali's generals would be found on the next few floors. The damn woman was giving him Christmas early. It would a pleasure killing most of them, fights worth his time in any case. It looked like he was going to have to take it easy on the woman for the time being. She was providing him with such ample opportunity to take out a majority of the real challenges tonight, rather than latter. And a single opportunity was all he needed.

**Josh-across the street, rooftop of a neighboring building**

It was nearing time. This single task was all he had to do and his family would be safe, if only for the time being. He could see everything that was going on in that building. He could hear everything. Now all he had to do was wait. Wait until everything that had been fortold as destiny to occur and become part of past time's tangles. Lauren's fate was an unkindly one. It would be time for his task soon. The fighting would be over shortly, as intense as it was. God he hated those bastards for forcing him to do this. The girl was family. Damn Gabriel to hell, but he loved his child. …Loved his wife. He couldn't lose sight of that, but nor was he going to deliver Lauren to them on a silver platter. There was a way out of this, if only he could depend on the demons.

**Dante and Trish-1st floor Pandora's**

"Dammit that one was mine!" Trish snapped. She lunged and cut a spider demon in half with the scythe feature Sparda sword sported. Another upper cut took off the head of a goatling, the sword blade folding back the way it was before.

"Would you chill already?" Dante stepped back and blew away an annoying flying bug demon. Replacing ebony, he sliced through a sand demon. Damn they seemed to be multiplying like rabbits.

"I'm demonic too, Dante," Trish growled. "More so than you, I might add. I don't need your damn help killing demons." She kicked another goatling in the crotch before blowing it's head off with her shotgun. Dante winced. That woman knew pain. Whatever.

"Uh-huh," he replied uninterested. He sent his blade heavenward and took out ebony and ivory, clearing away the thick crowd of harpie demons cluttering the air above. His sword managed to sishcabob several before coming back into his hand again. "Then would you care to explain to me why I needed to remind you of the several chess pieces?"

"The hell you did," Trish shouted. She jumped to get the slip on a chess piece, bring the Sparda down in an arc to deliver the final blow.

"Oh?" Dante sidestepped a flying scythe a bloody mary had sent him and cut several limbs from a spider demon, leaving a gash against the spider's abdomen. The egg sack inside exploded, the spider babies began swarmed out in a mass.

"You're a fucking pain in my," Trish paused to send her sword boomeranging through the air, "ass!" Her eyes flared a electric yellow as she fried the baby spiders. Dante cocked his head to the right, narrowing his eyes and allowing Sparda sword to continue on it's rampaging path without taking his head off in the process. He ran forward. Trish turned to him in surprised. He lunged, bringing up rebellion. Trish's eyes widened in disbelief. He just barely managed to cut off the spider demon's head. Sure miss awareness. That was his Trish.

"You know I love you, babe," Dante pulled her close, grinning playfully. "I'd watch your fucking lame ass any day."

"Damn strait," Trish growled, glaring at him.

"Shall we move on, my lady?" He released her. The room was falling apart at the seams. Buildings really didn't last long in demon fights unless they were buildings under negative influences. Judging by the interior the build was most certainly not under any such influences.

"Don't you 'my lady' me," Trish replied. "You're paying big for this demon boy. That demon was mine. I don't need your help." However, her blue eyes were dancing as she took off for the stage in the huge club. Smirking Dante took off after her.


	78. Family Matters3

Hello again! Only one chappie this time around. Special thanks goes out to Anon and Ulysess for corrections, revisions are posted as a result. Sorry about that. I knew Trish was a full blooded demon. lol Guess that's what happens when you fall alseep editing, eh? XD Enjoy! O! As always, credit where it's due. The wonderfully talented lyrics are by Link'n Park, from their song 'Forgotten'.

* * *

**Playing on Club Pandora's Loudspeakers**

From the top to the bottom  
Bottom to top I stop  
At the core I've forgotten  
In the middle of my thoughts  
Taken far from my safety  
The picture is there  
The memory won't escape me  
But why should I care  
In the memory you'll find me  
Eyes burning up  
The darkness holding me tightly  
Until the sun rises up  
Now you got me caught in the act  
You bring the thought back  
I'm telling you that  
I see it right through you

Now you got me caught in the act

You bring the thought back

I'm telling you that

I see it right through you

(Forgotten, Link n' Park)

**Lauren-5th floor, Linda's office**

"Now human, what are your grievances against my kin?" Obrion demanded from his seat at Linda's desk. "I would advise you to choose your words carefully." Linda was standing behind him, glaring at me for all she was worth. Both were surrounded by their royal lap dogs. At least he was decent enough to give me back my weapons. On the other hand, it looks like that high minded inferior human bullshit is contagious.

"I want," I paused for a moment. Ah what the hell, "Actually I demand a few things." Blithely ignoring a king's request, I hope that doesn't come back to bite me.

"Do you now?" Obrion asked, raising an eyebrow. What's with the dirty looks? You'd think having Linda as a daughter, he'd be used to people making selfish demands.

"Yes," I reply flatly. "You're going to give me the heart and on the honor of your name rites that when you leave this building you're going to take your miserable daughter and her disgusting life mate with you back to Fairie. Where they are going to stay." Forever, if I have my way. Obrion, I hope you're half as decent as the rumors say you are.

"And why would I do this?" I raise my eyebrow. He didn't just take that type of tone with me. Time for my piece de resistance.

"That's a part of my boon Obrion. I'm even willing to throw in the repossession your daughter's fey name," I reply evenly. Why I'm not killing the bitch, I don't know. I should, I could, but I'm not. Dad would be proud. In the end it boils down to a simple choice on Obrion's part: either he accepts my terms of the boon or his daughter gets slaughtered wholesale by yours truly.

His orange eyes study me sharply now, before narrowing them over to Linda. She has the decency to look away, a flush rising to her cheeks. I bet she's pretty damn embaressed. Whatever. Her name is the single reason Linda's been trying to off me for a year. I somehow escaped this hell hole with her name embedded into my head. Apparently, fey names are extremely important, I don't know why, I don't know how, but they are. The impression I get from most fey is that losing one's name is akin to literally losing one's soul. Whatever. I just want out.

"You gave the keeping of your name to a _human_?" Obrion demands, staring at Linda with hawk eyes. His blood vessels light up like spilt glows ticks under his skin.

"And my enemies would think to look _there_ for it?" Linda gestured to me, her voice thick with disgust. Damn that freaking inferiority complex, I'm right in the same room for Christsake's.

"And what would happen if _that_ sided with your enemies who knew the true value of your name? What then daughter of mine?" Obrion snarled back, losing his business cool. He also gestures towards me disgusted. "But of course that seems to already have happened, didn't it?" There? That?

"Lauren!" I snap, interrupting their happy family get together. "My name is Lauren. And if that's too difficult, Lor will work." Both of them stare at me, their faces blank. I could have been speaking Greek for all they cared. Smooth, real smooth. Sighing I drop my cigarette butt, grinding it out. "Give me the damn heart Obrion, take your stupid daughter and her pig of a life mate, and I'll give you her damn name. That's it, that's all I want for my boon. Just take your daughter out of the city and never let her return here after tonight." Can I make this anymore painfully obvious to you nuts? I bite down on my tongue to keep from saying what I really want to say.

"And what becomes of her court?" Obrion asked stiffly. I don't think anyone's actually snapped at the fey lord of the court of light, at least no mere _human_ ever has, the prick.

"Shut down, disbanded, foreclosed, packed up and shipped out," I pause for a moment. "There are a few more words for it, but I think you get the idea."

"And what of the humans and those wrenched half breeds that have been spawned here? You should know by now that they will not be allowed into fairie," Obrion replies coolly. Nice to see he's regained his cool. I sigh heavily. I shouldn't be the one answering for all these people, but he's right. If there's one good thing about Obrion, its that he sticks by his own rules, come hell or high water. Nice to know the rumors were true. Anything slightly resembling a human will never be allowed into Fairie. Call it anal fey protocol.

"They're free, from you, your court, and Linda's court. They owe nothing to anyone. All debts are forgotten and every trespass forgiven. Those who wish it will be cut loose from this place," I reply. Myself included. Obrion raises his chin slightly, as he leans back. He's still staring at me, studying me, examining me. The last jerk who did that ended up with a melted scalpel through his eye.

"You bargain well for a human," Obrion replies after a few minutes. Hark! Was that a compliment? "However, before I grant your boon, human, you will listen and accept my terms. The heart is yours to do with as you wish human, likewise my daughter and her life mate will come back to fairie with me and never return to this place. All this will be done in exchange for my daughter's fey name. I care not what you will do with such a thing, the matters of humans little concern me." Obrion pauses for a moment, eyeing me.

"And the catch is?" I prompt. This is almost too good to be true, which means it probably is.

"The court within the city will not be disbanded, rather you will chose a new ruler for it. My only demands regarding this matter are simple: whomever you chose must be of the fey and as well of humans." Fine I can live by that, but why does Obrion want a half human, half fey running the city court? He makes a point of hating everything human. All fey do. Well, I know about three good candidates for this gig. Hopefully, my first one won't say no. I know for a fact he'd personally like to see Linda and Dallicus up. "Are these terms acceptable?"

"If I chose a ruler for you, there will be no blitz in the city," I reply. Love this game of covering ass.

"As you wish," Obrion agrees.

"Then I accept your terms Obrion."

"Very well," Obrion stood. "I, Lord Obrion, king of the fey of light, give my name rights to you human Lauren, that my daughter will never more leave fairie after tonight." I sighed, relieved. That's a fifty pound weight off my chest. Now for the two hundred pound weight stuck in my head. Obrion casually paced around the desk. "Luitenint, ready our departure." Nodding one of the royal lap dogs hopped to it. "As for you," Obrion growled, turning to Linda, "You're not to leave my sight until we have arrived safely back at Fairie.

"Yes father," Linda replied dully. She curtseyed once again, though she shot me a death glare. Wow…I'm pretty impressed with my self, I half expected the place to be in flames by now. Not to mention Linda is in lock down for a very long time. I can finally relax! I smirk back, giving her the finger. Obrion narrowed his eyes at that.

"Now," Obrion interrupts our exchange, "her name human. You will give me her name." He stepped forward until we were inches apart. There went my personal bubble. "Where have you hidden it human?" I wince. I'm not going to enjoy this, but if it's what I have to do, then so be it.

"My eye," I reply quietly. "My left eye. Her name is hidden in my left eye." Obrion nods.

"This will hurt you child, though your vision will remain." I sense a string.

"But?" I asked warily.

"You will never cry salt tears again." Obrion sighed heavily. "For that you have my sincerest apologies." Never _cry_ again? And he's sorry about it? Whatever. I snort.

"Just get this _thing_ out of my head," I retort.

"As you wish, however before we end this human, what are your grievances against my daughter?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. I was hoping he'd forgotten about that…

"I would know why you have gone to such lengths to return my exiled daughter to me. Was it known to you that this is perhaps one of the only manners in which she may have returned home?" Obrion asks gravely. Peachy. Fucking Peachy. He just ruined my victory dance.

"That's not part of my boon Obrion," I growl.

"But it is my right as a father," Obrion replies evenly. I close my eyes briefly, sighing. Fair enough.

"Before I worked for her, my father was shot," I said slowly. "I came here looking for work. I also came here looking for someone who had connections in the city, someone who would be able to find leads on who killed my father."

"And did she not help you in this matter?" Obrion asked with a glance over to Linda.

"Not until I had worked for her a year and a half."

"You are not being honest," Obrion replied coolly, studying me closely. "There is more." Damn the fey. I glare at Linda, who glared back at me.

"After a year and a half of working for your daughter, I found out that she was the one who had my father murdered. He was the one of the few people who had indirectly expulsed her from Fairie," I said quietly. I swallowed the burning feeling in my throat. "He saved my mother and in the process destroyed a major company, the Duragon Corporation. Linda was using this particular company to produce blitz outside of fairie. She had known the entire time who I was."

"And?" The fey lord asked me mercilessly. It would be less painful if he asked me to rub salt in my eyes.

"And when I confronted her about it, she said this: he was just another human." I glared at her. It was hard not to cut up her smirking face right now. "That _human_ was my _dad_. My mother killed herself after my dad died. Your fucking daughter single handedly destroyed my entire life."

"And so you send her back to the place she's desired to return to?" Obrion asks skeptically.

"So I send her back to a place she's terrified of, to live with people she hates," I snap. "It's only fair that I destroy her miserable life in same manner she's did mine."

"I see," Obrion replies slowly, considering. Suck on it. I don't need his fucking pity. I want the hell out. I want to be able to sleep at night peacefully again. I want to stop thinking it might have been my fault Sion died. I want it all to stop hurting so damn much when I think about it. I want to hang his fucking daughter by her entrails for what she did to my family. However I'll settle for shipping to kingdom come. "Speak Lauren. Speak my daughter's fey name, and my kind will ne'er bother you again." About damn time.

"Umbrage Crux," I reply flatly, "of the Lightling Fey Courts."


	79. Out

Hey everyone, I'm going to be gone for a while so I won't be updating for a week or so. This is the other half of the last update, enjoy!

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**Lauren-Linda's office**

The room was spinning. Everything was blurring together and I wasn't sure if the red oozing into the picture was Obrion and Linda's combined blitz or my own blood. I could have sworn I blacked out. At the very least, I think I may have been hallucinating. Though in hindsight, I know now that it was a warning. Then again, with this much blitz, maybe I died momentarily and went to my own personal version of hell. Who the hell knows what exactly happened as Obrion removed Linda's name from my eye?

_Loki. _I stared at it, that thing standing in Obrion's place. Well it had my attention. What the hell was that? A zombie? A wraith? A demon? It had cloven-like claws, two forefront and a third claw acting as a thumb, all of them same length. It's flesh looked like it had literally been burned off with a generous amount of acid. On it's back where what looked like two extremely withered wings. What the hell? What was this thing? Where the hell was I? What the hell was going on?

_Loki be wary, our own kin seek that which was born into you not so long ago. They seek what should remain sleeping. _It stared at me, it's eyes nothing more than glowing pools of blue. Just like marionette demon eyes, that was slightly unnerving. Funny, it didn't smell like a demon.Who the hell is Loki? _Loki be wary, they seek your death. Tread lightly. Tread lightly. Tread lightly. _Does this idiot realize he has the wrong chic? His voice sounded like a skipping record. What a sucky hallucination.

Coughing the room came back into focus somewhat. I stared up at Obrion from my sitting position on the floor. He was just visible through the thick haze coating the vision of my left eye. How had I gotten on the floor? In his hand, Obrion was holding a small redish orb. It was difficult to say if it was slimy with blitz or crawling with other things that I wouldn't name for the life of me. That was Linda's name? That was her _soul_? Figures. And it was in my head for roughly two years. Grossed out doesn't even begin to cover it.

**Vergil-5th floor Pandora's, outside Linda's (Umbrage's) office**

"Vali."

"So you've come have you?" The queen of hell regarded him, a sweet smile on her lips. He didn't like the bright glee-like shine he saw in Vali's violet eyes. "Tell me Nero, there's a human the angels would have put to death here tonight. In the very next room, none the less. She wouldn't happen to be your particular human, would she?" Her smile grew when the general didn't bother answering, curling a stray lock around one of her fingers. He could smell blitz and blood in the other room. Whatever was going on in there…Lauren…she was a foot away from a being that wouldn't hesitate in the same manner the fey did.

"My queen, the heart," Alyssa quietly interrupted. Vali spared the smaller general at her side a glance before returning her attention to Vergil.

"We shall see, won't we my little black angel. Most are more wise than to awaken something like that, however you would know what the angels dare. Do you really think you can stop them?" Vali raised an eyebrow, her grin still growing by increments. "You would dare to try and stop me? Your nobility sickens me Nero. However, you possess some time to redeem yourself to me. Until then, I would have you satisfy your blood lust killing other generals," Vali smirked. "I daresay a few of them would enjoy killing you. One could almost compare it to drowning the runt of a litter. Make no mistake, you will receive no further quarter from me Nero Angelo. I will have your head on a platter for this transgression. May that be sooner or latter, but I will have your head." Turning the queen entered the small office. Leering, Alyssa was quick to take up her space.

"You're a selfish demon aren't you Nero?" Alyssa asked smugly, a smirk on her face. He had a feeling Alyssa had been plotting exactly this since he denied her Lauren's body. She was quick to confirmed his suspicions. "I only wanted the human's skin, you could have done whatever you wished with her soul. She's fated to die as all humans do, you _know_ that. What's so important about that single useless wench? It's rather unlike you." Her watchful eyes blazed red for a moment as blood began to flow from them. Vergil didn't bother replying. He'd known Vali would be foolish enough to throw her generals at him, as many as she had with her. So far he'd killed five of them, discounting Nallius and Thallis. After Alyssa was dead there would be no others, at least none that served as a challenge, save for Vali, and the several billions of lower class demons she possed. It was disquieting. What would she have to gain by throwing away her more skilled warriors? What was that witch playing for now?

"And you're the last fool on my list," Vergil replied smirking. Killing Alyssa would be pathetically easy. She had been a threat for her skill at manipulation. However alone, Alyssa was physically inadequate. She was perhaps the weakest of Vali's generals. With a flick of his thumb yamoto's edge slide out two inches from it's sheath.

"I'm going to enjoy killing your human while wearing your body, mongrel," Alyssa hissed. She charged. Gagging she drew up short, hovering a half a foot away from her intended target.

"You never even saw that, did you?" Vergil asked patiently. What a weakling. He twisted yamoto upside down as he drew the blade upwards. It was a painful way to die. He knew the havoc his blade was causing inside Alyssa's stolen child body. Nearly every major internal organ would be ruptured and the rib cage would become nothing more than bone fragments from the force of it. It was an old move, one he rarely used anymore, but it was effective enough. His guess had been right, Alyssa couldn't escape the body she now inhibited, entrenched in it as she was. She was dying as the body did. Strangely enough, she was smiling at him with her small hideous child's face.

"You will come to hate yourself, half breed," Alyssa chuckled, her dying breath sounding like a stopped up drain. "I have seen the future, shadows are everywhere, and you will fail. As you always do. Try as you might you will _never_ regain your-"

He didn't bother waiting for her to finish, he'd heard enough of her manipulations. He finished the upward movement, cutting her human bound skull in half. That was a relatively newer addition to this particular skill. As soon as the metal emerged from her skin, he cut horizontally. Yamoto flickered blue as Alyassa's putrid decaying blood sprayed the white wall behind her. Gravity pulled the dead spirit demon into the four pieces as Vergil resheathed his sword. He sighed.

That accounted for them all, every demon general Vali had under her belt that had been worthy enough to be considered a challenge. What was the bitch up to? What were the angels willing to give her that she'd be confident enough to throw away her best?

Shattering glass drew him from his thoughts. It was Lauren, he could smell her blood on the air. That woman had better have a semblance of life in her when he got to her. Vali had to know what she was by now. So why had she let Lauren leave that small room alive? It was easily within Vali's power to kill a her at that distance. There was no chance in a blue moon that little human Lauren had somehow evaded the Queen of Hell. Nothing added up. The bitch, she had known for a while it would seem. This wasn't good. He'd been careful, how the hell had Vali figured it all out? Only the oldest demons of hell had known the stories and they were all dead now, their blood forever on his hands. Had she been working with the angels from the beginning? It was possible however implausible it might seem.

Vali was screaming now, in a black rage from the sound of it. Vergil felt a smirk rise to his lips. Now what had she done to make the Queen of Hell scream? _Lauren_. He shook his head. Every demon she encountered seemed to want to kill her on the spot. Himself included at times. Ah well...she could put up a decent fight, for the most part. So was she serious when she claimed to want to kill things tonight? This would be an interesting development. Vergil went to the near by railing in time to watch the black haired woman land on her feet in the middle of a pool table two stories down. She drew Angi and Rudra, keeping her eyes on the demons around her. Not bad, perhaps Dante had taught her something after all. They would swarm her. She may have actually had her head in the game for a change, but she would still need help. She had better have the heart with her.

**Lauren**

I was out. Hell I fucking FREE! Thank hell for small favors. Blood was running from my left eye like a faucet, but I could see. My head didn't hurt. My head didn't hurt! I smirked at the demons surrounding me. I might actually have the chance to enjoy this. A monitor like demon roared. Huh, I've never seen that kind of demon before. Wonder if he was a friend of Vali's. What the hell was she doing here? I don't like it. Especially now that she knows I have the heart. These things are going to be all over me in a few minutes.

Looking around, Pandora's was utter chaos. Every living thing was running from the demons and more than half the fey in the building where either dead or vanished from sight. This place was literally being torn apart at the seems. Glad I'm not the janitor here. I bet the demons pouring into this place has something to do with the huge gaping hole leading to hell in the middle of the first floor stage. I could already see Dante, Trish, Lucia, and Rayne hacking things up. Wow, getting there is going to be a barrel full of monkeys.

Ah whatever, that's why I'm here tonight, to cut loose. Smirking I took up a defensive position with Agni and Rudra. Now I get to tear this place apart too. This is going to be fun. Come to think of it, where's Vergil? I got one hell of birthday gift for him.


	80. Ideal Freedom

Hello. Sorry for taking so long on this, and even so...it's a pretty pitiful update. Meh, disappointing... The next chappie is being stubborn, so give me some time to maul it into submission. Other than that, happy b-lated 4th of July and enjoy!

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**Lauren**

Left hilt fist, right hilt fist, upper abdominal kick, push it harder, the bastard hasn't gone down yet. Rudra came down, parrying with the demon's meaty claws. Drooling, the demon growled at me. Its breath alone coulda've killed. Why do they _do_ that? Is it really that hard to keep spit in your mouth? The growl grew into a full fledged roar as the demon realized I wasn't going to go down that easy. I hooked my feet around it's neck, my arms screaming from overuse as I let my torso drop. Here's hoping this works. Gravity helped propel the stumbling demon into a torque flip that sent it flying across the room. I heard the snap of bone and tendon as I landed on my feet. Glancing over I could see it's neck was broken. Score one humans.

What the hell kind of demon was this? It had a bull's head with a blend of humanistic aspects, human chest anyways. I've never seen a demon like this before. …Not that that's saying much. There was only one demon left of the bunch that had surrounded me, it wasanother bull. Turning I faced it. Snorting it stomped on the ground, lowering it's head. Was that an invitation?

"C'mon baby," I replied, falling into a strong defensive stance. Eyes glowing, it charged. Agni, Rudra, and the scrollings flared to life as the jagged blade edges dug int deep. The move took it off guard, bringing the tyrant to a standstill. Using the demon's torso for footholds, I buried a steel toed boot into it's jaw. The demon screamed, stumbling backwards. I was airborne long enough to flip head over heels, an unnecessary move, but fun as hell to pull off. A second latter my boot heels shut the squealing pig up, my aura driving its skull into the ground. The demon's face became buried into the floor, nothing left but reddish smear. And another one bites the dust. Sighing I stepped off the quickly decaying corpse. Now what? Everything here was dead. And I was just getting warmed up. Speaking of which.

My shoulder joints made a nice popping sound as I stretched them skyward. Even my elbows cracked. Oh, that felt nice. I should consider stretching before I jump out of windows and kill demons. Seriously, what a stress reliever. I wonder if killingthings for therapy is a good thing? Ah hell with it.Killing demons felt as good asstretchingdid. Man alive, what the hell have I been doing with my life for the last three years? And what the hell was that sicko Vali doing here? Was she one of Linda's allies that wanted me dead too? Why did she want the heart, come to think of it? And what about the angels? Are they for real? Shouldn't hell and heaven hate each other? Ah whatever, it wasn't my problem, not yet anyways. In the meantime I think I'm going kill every demon I can get my hand on. Anything to piss off Linda _and_ Vali. What can I say? Pay back's a bitch. ... ... ... Wait a minute... ...what's that smell? I sniffed, freezing.

The tar scent was all around me, making the hairs at the back of my neck rise. It screamed then, sounding like nails across a chalkboard. The shock made my heart skyrocket. Where the _hell_ did that thing come from? I killed every single one of those bastards. Reeling I turned to face a flying goat skull. WTF? It's weapon of choice was a nasty looking scythe. Shit. I don't have time to counter. How did I miss that thing? It's a foot away. I dodged, rolling, as the demon tore through where I had stood. Blinking, I stared at the smooth wooden planks. Did that thing just go _through_ the floor? Scythe and all? _Through_ the freaking wood? Yay me.

The bastard moved quick for a skinny shit. The first run by left me with a shallow cut. The second run by was aimed at my spleen. Twisting to the side I managed to narrowly avoid organ donation. How do you beat something you can't touch? It has to have a weakness. The world started to fall backwards. Shit, I'm losing my balance. Just my luck, I've slipped in a puddle of demon blood. I'm falling. Shit, shit, shit. Get back on your goddamning feet, Lor. The demon lunged. Oh…_fuck_…

"Disappointing Lauren." His hand was at my back, keeping me from acting like the klutz I am. Vergil eyed the demoncoming in for a third gun and run as I regained my balance. "A sin scythe shouldn't be a problem. Even for you." He glanced at me before focusing on the Sin Scythe. The demon kept coming. Gracefully Vergil stopped it with a flick of his hand, clamping down on it's skull. That freaking showoff, I don't need his help killing demons. The Sin Scythe screamed as Vergil tighten his grip, shattering it's skull. When he opened his fist, only bone ash and a very dead demon were left. Casually he brushed the dust from his hands.

"Oh piss off!" I snapped, resheathing Agni and Rudra. I didn't want his help. Damn it, _I_ was going to kill that thing. I may not be able to kill it in the same amount of time as him, but damn it, I _can_ kill the damn things. "Go kill your own damn demons!" Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Ever the lady I see. You have the heart?"

"Yeah, I got your heart." I tossed the vial to him. He better be careful with that thing, I had to go through pain to get it. And who does he think he is, making fashion comments? I happen to like my fishnet shirt. It goes well with my green cargo pants and combat boots. "When you'd lose it? The middle ages?"

"At least I possessed one at one point in time," He replied smoothly, holding up the vial. "That's more than I can say for you Lauren." Right, _he's_ calling _me_ heartless. I get that damn thing for him and he doesn't even say thank you. I snort.

"Bite me."

"Is that an offer?" Vergil asked with a smirk. He slid the heart into his breast pocket for safe keeping. Why do I bother?

"What the hell do you think?" I asked, annoyed. I need to kill something. Hell, I need to find that fey human Tweak. Impatient is a little bit of an understatement right now. "_C'mon_ _Vergil_! We're wasting time."

"There's a portal to hell on the first floor, spawning demons by the hundred fold."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's move!" Vergil raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tipping up wards. What the hell is he smirking at? We're wasting time! If a demon kills Tweak before I can hand off Linda's fey court to him, so help me, there will be hell to pay.

"After you answer a single question." Oh gawd, now what? I still remember the last time he said that. I stared at him, flatly.

"What?" He better not pull anything stupid. Then again this is Vergil. I cross my arms, giving him a look.

"What happened to your eye?"

"What?" What the hell kind of question is that?

"It's bleeding. Your blood smells heavily of blitz." I groan. He's asking a question about that? That's not even important. I'm almost free! He's wasting time, I have to find Tweak ASAP. Not to mention whenever we get to the first floor, Dante and Trish will have already killed all the demons. Oh hell, even that bitch Lucia will have killed them. I want to kill some demons too. I deserve a little fun.

"Thanks for the update Sherlock. I somehow missed that, what with the thick red ooze obstructing my vision," I rolled my eyes. And he said _I_ was a pain in the ass. "Can we go kill demons now?" Vergil chuckled. What the hell does he think is so funny? If Tweak's dead when I find him, I'm blaming Vergil for it.

"As you wish Lauren." Jesus, about freaking time. It's like pulling teeth.

**Raziel and Jothiel**

"Where were you? What have you been up to?"

"It doesn't concern you. All you should be concerned with is the completion of your mission. She must arrive safely in a timely manner and-"

"Why would you go to such lengths to keep her alive when your kind is simply going to turn around and kill her?" he asked bitterly.

"My kind?" the other asked skeptically. "Are they not your kind as well?"

"I'm no one's tool. I've fallen, even you can see that. The angels are not my kin."

"And yet here you are, serving their will." The sword flared to life in the night, fire flickering along it's blade. It's owner turned to the other.

"Don't patronize me. I was fallen long before you emerged from the abyss. Are they planning what I think they are? What will happen to her?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. I doubt they will succeed however."

"What? Who's side are you on?"

"Hmm," a small smile would have danced on his lips had they not been eaten away already on this plane of existence. "You will make a good father for my own."

"You're speaking in riddles." The flaming sword he held lowered. "Your derangement mirrors that of the angels'."

"Hardly," the other replied. "I have my orders, Jothiel, now you must follow yours."

"That doesn't stop you from being a condescending prick I see." Silent now, Josh faced the night club. It was being torn apart. Soon now, very soon, it would be time. What was going on? The 'mission' wasn't difficult, he simply had to get Lauren to the New Light Foundation, but there had to be more to it than that. Hell, he'd be a fool to assume there wasn't. For whatever reason, other than the obvious, the angels had wanted him for this specific task.

Josh glanced at the other being from the corner of his eye. Whatever it was, it wasn't following the same agenda as the Grand Master's, that much was certain. Wasn't Yanos in for a nasty shock when he realized as much. Still it raised a rather disquieting question: who, or what, was this thing working for?


	81. The Accord

Hey again! Sorry, but i think the updates are going to be a little bit more sporadic and spaced apart until i get on a set schedual again, like when school starts back up or something just as drastic. I think y'all have figured this out already, so i'll quit wasting your time. Expect the rest of the update this week. (I swear it! Even if it kills me!) So enjoy and thanks for the patience!

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**Vali**

"What have you done Obrion?" Vali demanded, nearly screeching, her eyes black with rage.

"Granted a boon, Hell Queen," Obrion replied, shooting a discreet glare to his daughter. The fey princess was wise enough to remain quiet, letting her father deal with the Hell Queen. Obrion paused, regarding Vali. "It was not in your place to prevent such a transaction. Or have you forgotten the Accord?"

"I would caution you against playing me for a fool Obrion," Vali hissed. "The Accord is my blood. Where is the heart?"

"With the human," Obrion replied. "As it was part of her boon."

"That human?" Vali snarled. The wench. She'd had half a mind to throw the meat sack out the window herself had it not been for the fact the human had done it for her. That half human dog, somehow he had gathered all of them, the bits and parts that had been scattered to the wind for time out of mind. Or at least, that was as she presumed he saw it as. Vali, however knew better. Fate was not a chess board, the players moving by turn to event and action. No, fate was so much more than that, destiny was rather like a well oiled machine, a clock unwinding, ticking down the time to a single moment. Since the first coming, the gears and sprockets of fate had been ceaselessly pulling, ruthlessly driving the world to a single fate, a single result, the final end, with out reason or logic. The final end, a single event many sought to tailor to their own machinations. The half demon meant to alter fate as it had been written down eons ago, not only by the angels, but by the demons as well. The great Accord now long forgotten by most of the players save for that fool the Grand Master and herself. All rested on the final end.

How had the half demon learned of it? It didn't matter. Vali felt a most unlady like snarl pulling back on her mouth, revealing for all who cared to see, the shining row of pearly fangs. The Queen of Hell's aura seethed off her person, dissipating into the human realm. The mongrel knew, as much perhaps, as his father had. Damn the Sparda bloodline. Damn every Sparda that walked the earth, damn every generation yet born. Damn that human, the one Nero held within his keeping. She would be the undoing of them all.

…Unless the angels already knew, unless that was what they had been banking on. Vali gritted her teeth together. The treacherous whoresons, the arrogance of the angles was outstanding. Oh that human would die. Not by her hand, that was clear now, as it was written in the Accord but the human wench would die. Fate would transpire, the second coming would fail as the first should have. She would put an end to the Sparda blood line, if fate danced the way she willed it. She was no simple farce for the angels to play with at whim. No toy to be used and then carelessly thrown away. Let them think she danced upon their strings for a while more, fate would transpire as she, and she alone, willed it.

"We leave now Hell Queen," Obrion pulled the violet eyed demoness from her brooding. "There are matters I would attend to."

"Are there now?" Vali hissed. "I will crush your precious courts and destroy your lands for this Obrion. Everything you hold dear I will burn in a wake of misery and despair. This I promise you."

"I will await your attendance," Obrion bowed his head formally, his eyes alive with blitz. The king of the fey would be a difficult opponent to bring down, but not entirely without ease. Vali took a deep breath to calm her rage. There would be an opportunity to correct this. Patience and opportunity often rode hand in hand on the winds of fate, she would know. Humans were pathetically easy to kill and convenient accidents were all to frequent in the city. The angels would see to it, that much was understood. It was just a matter of time… The mongrel, Vali sniffed, even if she didn't kill him, no doubt the angels would. In any case both were as good as dead, they just weren't aware of it yet.

**Dante**

Where the hell was it? It had to be here, the demon entrusted with supporting the portal. Dante brought Rebellion down, finally killing the sand demon. Of all the demons he had encountered, No Names and Sand Demons had to be the most annoying demons of hell. Sand Demons regenerated almost as fast as one lopped off their collective limbs, making them a two for the price of one sale. No Names were created without any sense of sanity. That said it all in their case. However both demons tended to act as a sort of collective hive mind able to transport the responsibility of the portal's well being from one to another as they were killed off. And he had killed a great vast majority of them for a while now, and still many more were coming.

Christ he'd never seen so many, that alone said something. Was this a decoy? A precursor of things to come? A full scale invasion? A combination of any or all of those things? …Not that any of those possibilities were difficult to take care of. Oh he had a fairly good idea what it was his brother was planning. It disgusted him to a point to which he could only step back and give Vergil a silent standing ovation. And here he'd thought twenty something years mighta done his twin some good. There was a chance, however slight, though… Dante shook his head. Yeah, sure there was, but that wasn't the point was it? The girl better watch herself. He'd heard the woman in white screaming, even the smallest wiff of her scent reeked of hell. He'd have to give the girl a pat on the back for the accomplishment latter. Those who could enrage the masters of hell and live to tell of it where few and far between, how far that survival lasted though, that appeared to be a matter of some speculation.

Dante sighed, bringing down rebellion. The No Names' third arm caught the blade while it's face caught the business end of Ebony. There was no end to this. And there were still many more coming. If the portal wasn't shut down soon, holding ground might actually have been a challenge. He was half tempted to let the demons over run the bar, make it worth his time. Dante pushed that thought aside too. What Vergil was planning…the idiot better not push his luck. Besides, it was pointless to transform simply to take care of lower class trash like this. Actually it would sap whatever weak challenge there was to be already had if he devil triggered. That alone was incentive remain in his more human skin.

"Trish," Dante called over. The scythe wielding blond drove her fist into a solid marble chest piece, making a hole in the middle of it while shredding the knuckles of her gloves. Yep, she was still annoyed about earlier. Trish turned to him, raising an eyebrow. If this didn't make her a happy camper nothing would. "Find the circuit breaker, you know what to do." At that the blond smirked, shouldering the Sparda sword.

"Take care of the home front," she replied sweetly, her eyes dancing. A sliver of pride was a small price to pay, he supposed, for hot make up sex. And that too, was incentive enough, especially since she looked decidedly _less_ like his mother with the short hair. Then again, Trish had always been her own person, she shared very little in common with his mother, or so he'd discovered.Demonslaying and a tough ass will were about it. He'd be a fool not to love her for who she was, rather than for what she looked like. And right now, that love boiled down to pacifying the woman.

"Move your ass blondie," Dante retorted flatly. Still smirking Trish took off for the back of the stage, lopping any limb that got to close. Dante shifted his footing, taking stock of his surroundings. The portal to hell gapped through the torn barrier, showing vast hordes of soldier demons yearning to enter the human realm. Again Dante shifted his footing, the soles of his boots finally finding the hard wooden paneling of the stage floor among the various differing types of demonic guts and the thick heavy electrical cords that coiled as high as his shin in some places.

_This is going to be a hell of a fireworks show_, Dante thought, parrying against marionette blade. It might burn down the building. Whatever, not his problem. Maybe this might simmer the babe some. That woman, she freaked out over a little thing like him saving her pretty blond neck. Did it never occur to her he enjoyed kissing that pretty blond neck? Did she know how hard it was to neck a dead person? Turning Dante drove his foot into a panther demon's maw throwing it across the wide stage. _Vergil…what the hell do you think you're doing?_


	82. Cooperation

Oh boy, what a day. TGIF. Enjoy!

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**Vergil**

She was reading his moves, actually _anticipating_ them. Surprising. He had already known she possessed skill, though not to this extent. Perhaps her more subconscious element had something to do with this change? No wonder she'd been so impatient. He hadn't been expecting this. It was more than he would have cared to hope for. Lauren, silent _and_ useful, tonight was certainly an interesting one.

Lauren ducked, bowing low enough to allow yamoto a two inch clearance as he moved in on a soldier demon. She didn't give it notice as the razor edge stirred the fabric of her shirt, intent as she was on the demon before her. Vergil parried against the spider demon as Lauren high kicked thrice, sending a necromancer reeling. She took a defensive position on his exposed side, easily falling back into her original stance. His blade burned blue, the aura replicas making a large pin cushion of the spider. By then Lauren was at his back, following the weaker gap in his defense as she turned to face a moving corpse. After that, all movement blended together, one action flowed into another. Noise, colors, sight, all narrowed in the simple act of existing, if only for the moment. The rage of battle, the single minded madness and controlled chaos of it, and still Lauren paced through it as if born to it. Impressive enough to give him a moment's pause.

He could feel the presence of the amerhurst at work. She turned, narrowly avoiding Yamoto's path, as she threw her weight behind her own blades. The space separating them was minimal and the demons slowly began to decline in numbers. Despite the lack of space, there was no hassle, no missteps, just clean frictionless motion. He'd never fought so in sync with another, not even his own flesh and blood, let alone a human. Even when she stumbled, caught off guard, few words were needed.

"Vergil." Reaching, he grasped her hand, swinging her in a high arch. Wordlessly, she drove her heels into a diving harpy before he let her back on the ground. Regaining her balance, she continued the onslaught, the momentary slight forgotten. A minute later found the room in ash, ooze, decaying flesh, and stone rubble. Vergil watched as the last demon, a freakish looking monstrosity born of a cat panther and nightmare, slowly melt into a foul smelling puddle that left the wooden floor scorched black. Turning he found Lauren, hands on her knees, eyeing the green slime with slight disgust. She looked up, catching his attention. Again, few words were needed.

"Now what?"

"The first floor."

"How many?"

"Enough," he replied, "to satisfy your revenge." Enough to slack any soul's appetite for slaughter. Vali was intending to swarm the city with a single portal? That was arrogance and stupidity on a level Vali didn't exist at. What was the bitch planning? If not the invasion now, then when? Why the rallying cry? He shook his head, briefly closing his eyes. The human son of God? More like a human reincarnation, and just as weak if not as silent as the real God. It didn't matter when the invasion occurred. The bitch would be met with the same failure as she had tonight. It was only a matter of time before the black bitch fell before his blade. If he could avoid the angels and keep Lauren from their reach for that long. The angles. He sniffed once…they were here….he could smell them. What was their true purpose? This was…disquieting. God was dead, it did not matter the reincarnation, or so he'd learned. So why this? Why any of it? What did the angels know?

Whatever intangible spell the amerhurst had woven, whatever link that had been forged, broke like a shattered mirror. He could feel it, fading like dust in the wind as both their consciousnesses focused on two vastly different ideas. Lauren would need to take the trinket off soon. He couldn't afford her wearing it for much longer and neither could she, for that matter.

"Revenge?" she raised an eyebrow, drawing him from his thoughts. "This is just for fun." Lauren laughed, amused. Sweat ran down her forehead as she straitened up. "What about you Vergil?" she ran the back of her hand under her bangs. Some of the tips appeared to be knotted with blood clots. "Are _you_ here just for revenge?"

"Your eye is still bleeding," he replied flatly, tucking a hand into a pocket. It came out with a partial green star. "The smell of your blood is annoying, human."

"Oh suck it up," she replied, sighing. Catching the star she tossed it back to him.

"That wasn't a suggestion, Lauren." His nose twitched as he threw the star back. The damn woman was bleeding, more heavily than he had thought. He could smell it even through the haze of putrid scents secreted by the numerous demon carcasses.

"Quite bitching," she replied annoyed, still toying with the star fragment rather than using it. "It's not like-"

"Holy hell! It's the Captain! Hey Captain! Aaron! Marcus! Sir Tweak! I found the Captain!"

**Rayne & Lucia**

"**I**"-hack-"**hate**"-slash-"**demon**"-cut-"**_blood_**!" Pulling, Rayne tore the head from the sin scissors shoulders. Dark, foul smelling liquid sprayed from the left over stump like a fountain as the black robes fell away to dust. Disgusted the dhampire threw the stone mask over her shoulder, neatly impaling it on a coat hook.

"So bathing yourself in it means…?" Lucia asked, pausing for a moment to study the blackened skin and outfit of her preverbal twin in mayhem. The foyer of the club was now clean of all demons thanks to the two of them.

"That you're next on the list, you pain in my ass," Rayne hissed, flicking out both blades.

"Excuse me?" Lucia demanded, flipping a dagger into the air. It joined the other two already waiting between the fingers of her clenched hand.

"Do you know how _good_ that fey was?" Rayne hissed. "Do you know how rich he tasted?" The blood rage was built and the need to expel it was overwhelming.

"Please," Lucia sighed, rolling her eyes. Her stance relaxed. The dhampire had been bitching about it for the last hour. "Give me a-" Gagging she fell to the floor as the sharpened chain whip wrapped itself tightly about her person. The daggers in her hand cut painfully, to the bone by the feel of it. Lucia gritted her teeth against the surprise and pain.

"What you call _fun_, I call _eating_," Rayne snapped annoyed, giving the chain a yank. She stopped the sliding red head with a stiletto foot, glaring. "Do you know how utterly disgusting demon blood is? No, not disgusting, it's repugnant. Putrid. It's the same as mold growing on sewer pipes only with less flavoring. Have you ever eaten sewer mold, Miss Lucia?"

"Whaaa daaaa heeeth-"

"I'm still hungry," the dhampire growled, ignoring Lucia's gagged speech and struggles. She was confident the dagger throwing red head wouldn't be able to free herself, even had she been made off steel titanium. "What exactly do you recommend I eat," Rayne demanded, "when everything thing here tastes like salted poison?" One way or another, all the fey were either dead or tasted too weak and watery. Those she had tasted were only half bloods, human fey like the one she had drank from before, only weak. Much, much more weak. She flicked the twin blades in and crossed her arms, staring grouchily at the struggling bundle at her feet. Rayne had been entirely serious when she had told the fey human Tweak he was good. He had been very, very good. Not to mention the things she could have gained draining that fey human. The skill might have mastered. All of it, gone, because of one impatient demon slayer.

Suddenly the dhampire smiled, the red sheen leaving her eyes, revealing the eerie animal green beneath. Lucia stilled, watching the empress with wary, disbelieving eyes. "You're going to help me correct this problem, little defect," Rayne crooned, kneeling down, "and I know just where we're going to start." Her smile spread, revealing the lengthening fangs. Lucia's eyes widened as her face slowly paled. Softly Rayne began to chuckle.

**Trish**

"Hmph." Trish eyed the large black box with a satisfied smile. Many large cables snaked their way out of the box, leading off in the direction she had just come from. Many more cables snaked off into other directions. So there it was. She would never admit it, but she loved blowing these things up. Somehow, Dante seemed to know anyways. The anticipation made her giddy.

Shifting the Sparda sword into her left hand, Trish began to pool the energy. Easily it flowed from her aura, crackling in the palm of her hand until a mini lightning storm hovered there. She eyed it wickedly, eyes lighting up with glee. There was enough electricity, she knew, in that tiny ball to short circuit a city block. Dante hadn't been too particularly pleased when she'd first blown up DNC's circuit breaker. Neither had their fifteen something neighbors. After a few moments the ball of energy was ready. It made her hair stand up on end and sent a numb tingling sensation up her arm. There was more than enough electricity in the small ball.

With out hesitation, Trish plunged her palm towards the little electrical box. The sparks shot off in all directions as the energy ball reached its intended target. The electricity danced, shooting off in all directions, down the black medusa like cables. In only a few seconds Trish could smell the familiar scent of burning skin and hair, of roasting meat. She could literally feel her aura burning thousands of demons alive. It made her laugh. The lights flickered and went out, only to be replaced by dim emergency lights. Trish stared at them, before turning away from the smoking box still laughing. She was half tempted to do it again, simply to burn out these new, stubborn light bulbs too. Shrugging, she dismissed the idea, continuing onward as she carefully picked her way through a minefield of fried demon bodies. In the distance she could hear Dante battling those demons that had somehow survived the massive electrical attack. It was high time to finish with this mess.


	83. The Hand Off

Hello! Updates! Heres two new chappies for y'all. (Count'em!) 2 for you! And it's Friday, TGIF! Yay for consistancy! Enjoy!

* * *

**Raziel & Jothiel**

They watched as the lights, which had burned brightly, went out with a shudder. The sudden darkness, accompanied by the unearthly sounds emitting from the building, left one to wonder the fate of those inside. Even as the dim emergency lights began to flicker on one by one.

"Go," the wraith stated quietly. "It's time."

"They'll figure it out eventually," the other replied, hefting his sword. The dead scrolling under his skin came to surface, acknowledging the holy blade much in the same manner as it acknowledged the scrolling's bearer. If only for a second both scrolling and blade remembered what it was to be a true member of the holy family, worshipped by the human masses. The consciousness however, looked on in disgust before quickly dismissing the faint memory.Jothiel did not desire to be a member of the family anymore, he had his own to worry about now.

"I know."

"And you little care. I don't believe I have to warn you of the consequences if my family is dragged into your clandestine vendetta." At that the wraith chuckled.

"You believe you possess the necessary power to stop me?"

"I will die trying if need be the case," the other growled solemnly. "That, I assure you, is a promise."

"As I have said before, so I will say it again: go in peace Jothiel, you and your's have nothing to fear from me. I desire something apart from what the angels seek."

"I'll take you at your word, wraith. However, the less you about your private goals, the less I have to lie about it when I'm asked. And I will say it again, leave my family well alone and untouched. You may find me a ready ally for that small mercy." With that the fallen stepped gracefully off the roof ledge. He landed on the sidewalk below, nearly ten stories down. The wraith watched his progression across the street silently. The fallen was still more like his kin than he was aware of. No matter how he despised his former family, it would be nearly impossible to free himself of them. It was quite the tragic idea. Raziel pondered.

It wouldn't be long now. He could sense the supposed hellqueen making her way to him. He knew she was as aware of him as he was of her, much in the same way the fallen was painfully aware of his kin. Such was the bond all families possessed. No doubt she would behave in her usual manner.

Sighing, the wraith summoned the Soul Reaver. It was a powerful weapon, a relic that often reminded him of times long past. The blade yielded from a different plane of existence, as did the fallen's own blade. The difference was evident in the physical manifestation of the blade. The pure white energy, as hot as the center of the sun sluggishly came to be in the realm of the humans. It encircled his sword arm, making it appear to be more of a thing of fire than an arm with which one wielded a weapon. Silently the wraith waited, the blade quietly singing and hissing with energy. Of one thing he was confident, Vali would come to him.

**Lauren and the Blackgaurd**

It was Sara, Aaron, Marcus, and Tweak. And the freakiest black out I've ever experienced. Dante and Trish are really going stir crazy down there. The red emergency light bathed us all in partial darkness. Even then I could see demon blood covering them. They had been fighting too? What the hell did they think they were doing? Are _any_ of my friends normal? …Never mind. Sara and Aaron shouldn't be here. Marcus shouldn't be here and Tweak should've kept running, because it's either his ass or mine, and I'm _not_ overseeing what's left of Linda's little corner of hell.

"Aaaaarrrrrrrooooonnnn! I found the Captain!" Sara yodels happily as she runs past the piles of demon corpses obliviously. Still a green horn.

"Captain?" Vergil asks amused, raising an eyebrow. He's smirking again. I shoot him a dirty look before turning to Sara.

"I found you!" Sara squeals, skyrocketing into me. Oh, my ears. I think she just blew an eardrum. "Now we can leave!" Sara beams, squeezing tighter. Lungs…can't…breath…

"Get off!" I wheeze, smacking her over the head. Breaking two ribs wasn't good enough apparently. "I said get off!" I stumble back a step. I think I'm starting to see spots… Go figure, my partner is having a ball at my expense instead of getting python girl off.

"Sara," Aaron takes python girl by the shoulders. "Enough, she's not going any where." Sara lets go and I suck in air. I don't dare look over to Vergil. I might try to hit him in order to wipe that damn smirk off his face.

"Captain," Marcus nods.

"So now I know the reason for your confidence," Tweak greets me, "we followed a trail of corpses to find you." He cocks his head to the left. "Hey did you know your eye is bleeding?" Dammit people, get off my freaking face.

"I found her!" Sara pipes up. "I found the Captain." Seriously, how many times have they blitzed this kid? I chose to ignore the five ton, lead eating python girl for a moment.

"Hey, you're just the fey I was looking for," I reply, playing with my lighter in my pocket.

"Why?" Tweak regards me warily. Smart boy. He has a million and three separate reasons to be terrified right now. He's smart enough, I think, to be able to do this. Not smart enough to run for the hills though.

"Want to rule this place?" I ask casually.

"Pardon?" I have his, Aaron's, Marcus's, Sara's, maybe even Vergil's, attention now. Oh goodie, an audience.

"This court," I say very slowly. "You're going to run this court. Okay?"

"Putting aside the fact that Linda and Dallicus run this court," Tweak replied flatly. "How? Why? Why me?"

"By order of Obrion. I don't know why but he wants this court run by a half human fey, since Linda and Dallicus are taking a permanent vacation in Farie. And I'm choosing you because I trust your judgment." And because Tweak isn't a greedy, sadistic bastard who snorts cocaine. But hey if that isn't enough, wearing sky blue jimmy choo's ought to cover it. …Thank the social gods he only wore them once.

"Are you serious?" Tweak asks quietly, staring.

"Who's Obrion?" Sara asks turning to Aaron. Aaron doesn't reply, he simply stares at Tweak and I. His face is somewhat pale in the red emergency light. Okay, fine it's shocking news, wonderful. Can we get on with it now? It's not like I'm dropping a huge messy demon filled court on his hands. I'm gently giving him a demon free wrecked building and a fey court. I'll even throw in a free air freshener if he stops acting like an idiot.

"Still with me, Tweak?" I ask after a moment. He blinks, stirring after a moment.

"I see," he says slowly. "I really don't have a choice do I?"

"Not really," I shrug. "Oh by the way," I turn to Marcus, Aaron and Sara, "All blackguards are free. So are all other debt bound court members. It's pretty sweet, no strings or anything."

"Free?" Aaron asks quietly, still holding Sara by the shoulders. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Thank you captain!" Sara flashes me a blinding smile. For a moment I was afraid she was going to hug me again. Like usual, Marcus takes everything in stride. Still even he looks pretty shocked for someone who never shows any kind of emotion.

"There are demons to take care of," Vergil interrupts flatly. Mr. Personality. Geez, Marcus and Aaron have been blackguards for ten years, they need some time to absorb all this. The only reason I already have is because I was hedging for it in the first place. I glance over to Vergil with another dirty look. He responds by raising an eyebrow. Yeah, yeah. I sigh. Of course he's right. A ton of demons are waiting. Dammit Vergil, can't you be uncool for at least a minute?

"I gotta go guys," I say quietly, turning. "I'll catch up with you all later." I've taken two steps before Aaron's hand slams down on my shoulder.

"Wait a goddamn minute." I stare at him over my shoulder, going still. Vergil pauses for a moment before continuing, uninterested. What the hell is Aaron's problem? "You're just going to drop this kind of bomb on us and walk away."

"Ah, casually walk away, maybe even run," I agree. Or a flat out sprint. I'm not picky. Blinking Aaron releases my shoulder. He looks confused, dizzy even. "I did say I'd come back," I point out.

"What are you doing Captain? Who is that man? What's going on?" Aaron sounds so lost, like a little kid. Fuck. Aaron, he's been Linda's dog for so long, I don't think he can do anything without some one barking orders at him. That could've been me. Scary thought.

"Aaron," I turn to him. "You don't have to call me captain, my name is Lauren. That guy is Vergil and we're going to kill the demons." I pause for a moment, winking at him. "I suggest you go home, take a load off for a couple of years. You better take care of your sister too. Things are a little crazy right now." I leave him there, looking as baffled as he did a minute ago, maybe even more so. Aaron pull yourself together, Sara's depending on you. I hope he'll be okay. Whatever, it's his problem now, not mine. Aaron isn't my responsibility. I've already done more than enough for him. It's his turn to get the hell out of my life. And that's how life works in the city. I don't owe him anything, and he sure as hell doesn't owe me.

"Captain?" Vergil's voice makes me jump. That's when I see him, waiting for me at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall. He's almost invisible in the dim light. Nothing says intelligence like hiding in the shadows of a demon infested building. Even the smell of demons is thick on the air.

I glance at Vergil before looking at the mass of bodies below us. There are thousands of them. God…I've never seen so many…and this is my life now. I kill demons. This has nothing and everything to do with my life. I wouldn't be here doing this if it hadn't been for Vergil in the first place. Why he cares I don't know. The whole captain thing wasn't my idea.

"So why are you here Vergil? Revenge or fun?" I retort, still staring at the demon mosh pit below. I really don't care as to the real reason Vergil is here, it doesn't matter, but I'd be shocked as hell if he actually answered one of my questions strait up for once. Vergil is silent for a moment. He's studying me with quiet blue eyes when I turn to him. "It isn't really that important, is it? Why are we wasting time? Don't we have demons to kill?" He chuckles then. And just like that, the wall is back. I still don't know what's going to happen once he has all the artifacts together. Things haven't really changed a whole lot since day one have they? … … … …Have they?

"All of them?" he asks, waving a hand that includes roughly five million demons.

"Why not?" I demand. Since when has killing things ever been a problem? Don't tell me he's actually starting to grow a conscious.

"You still have a lot to learn little Lauren."

"Oh bite me," I snap. Could he save the Master Yoda moments for latter, preferably when we're not looking twenty billion something demons in the mouth? Laughing, Vergil turns, taking the steps at a slow casual pace.

"You continue to make that offer tonight and I might consider taking you up on it." I snort.

"And you'll always be a perverted ass, Vergil, but I don't make waves." He just ignores me, yucking it up. What an idiot.


	84. Holes

**Raziel and Vali**

"Your face is disgusting, as always," Vali hissed, eyeing the wraith before her. "I thought I sensed your revolting aura lurking about."

"Sister," the other acknowledged patiently.

"Spare me, the idea of kinship is a joke. As is the idea that I was once related to you."

"I see time hasn't done much to improve your disposition."

"Your presence here is no mere coincidence. It's that human isn't it? Why do the angels seek to end her life?"

"You're making demands of me?" The wraith asked, his voice an amused accusation.

"According to the King of the lightling fey, the Accord will not allow me to shed her blood," Vai persisted.

"No," the wraith agreed, "it wouldn't." The queen of hell studied the wraith quietly. The blood fell from her cheeks as she digested this information.

"That's impossible." Shaking herself, she glared at the wraith. "That pathetic excuse for a _human_ is nothing more than that. She is a _human_, who will die after living a short meaningless life, just like all the other pathetic humans."

"Are you certain of this?" the wraith asked quietly.

"_It's not_ _her_," Vali hissed.

"Mother begs to disagree."

"_Mother_?" Vali sneered. "_Mother_ told you this? Mother, the grand whore of existence, told you this? Mother, the self same litter eating sow? The very one that would sacrifice everything, all in the name of our father? The acid ate away your brain matter little brother, that thing in there, that meaningless drivel spawned of over developed apes, is nothing. _She_ is _dead_."

"As you wish sister."

"I'm not your sister, you wretched thing, and that bitch human is not _her_." Yet the hell queen words were said more as an after thought, their vehemence weak. Already, he could see her calculating the meaning of his words. The repercussions, the advantages, every angle to be had or avoided in accompany to the meaning of his words. It was exactly as their mother claimed would happen. Their mother knew her daughter still, even after all this time .All she needed now was a final push.

"Then slay her and have done with it," The wraith replied sternly, white fire eyes regarding the hellqueen. "If it is her, the Accord will save her. If not, Mother was mistaken, and the angels will have what they wanted. Either action ends in the same result, both for the angels and for mother. Naturally, the end result will benefit you as well. You'll get what you want."

"Of course I will," Vali replied coldly. "I promise you and our _mother_, that human will die. As will that damn mongrel. He possesses the artifacts, if that human is what you think she is-"

"That doesn't concern me sister. I would not rule a forsaken world."

"Spare me," Vali hissed. Her eyes blazed red in her rage. He could see the thin silver wiring in her hand twitch. She held herself in check however. Vali had been there at the creation of the Soul Reaver, she knew what the blade could do, even to her. "Know that I would gladly kill you in less time it will take to kill that human bitch."

"You could try," Raziel agreed, "but you won't. Not while the Accord still holds."

"Tread lightly brother," Vali replied sweetly. "For the Accord will not always be there to protect you."

**Lauren-Half an hour latter…**

"Save some for the after party," Dante commented. I glanced over to him. The after party? I don't plan on staying sober long enough to remember there was an after party. Hell, it is party time. Hardcore party. Hardcore as in, WWJD with a bottle of Tequila and a blowtorch party time.

"Dante, if I'm sober three weeks after this, it'll be a miracle." Dante just chuckled. After half an hour of strait up ass kicking, the room was dead. I don't think I've ever seen one room filled with so much gore.

"Another job done," Trish sighed, letting her sword fall against the counter. Dante slid a beer down the counter in her direction.

"You can say that again." I threw back the rest of the bottle. Vodka…it does a body good. "That was chaos, guts, huge ass succors, grossness, fire, even more guts, and-"

"Keep drinking Lauren, it's improving your vocabulary," Vergil interrupted. I eyed him over my empty bottle. Trish chuckled, sliding me another half full bottle.

"Step off my vodka," I retort, taking the bottle. "In case you failed to notice, we just single handedly tore the roof off this place." Poor Tweak, the janitor's going to commit suicide after all this. Vergil shook his head, taking a seat at a near by booth relatively untouched by gore. Wordlessly Dante tossed him a bottle of jack before settling in with his own drink. Vergil had at his bottle. I uncapped the new bottle of vodka. If I knew I could score free booze killing demons, I'd have started doing this a long time ago.

"Where the hell did Rayne and Lucia get to?" Trish asked after a minute of silence, contemplating her beer.

"Who the hell cares?" Dante retorted. He has a point.

"Lauren." I spun around on my bar stool towards the new voice. It was Tweak. Behind him was a rag tag group of people. Most of them were minorly hurt, a few had some pretty serious neck wounds. The sight of them made my stomach wheezy. It must have been the bright neon colors. They were all human feys, half breeds like Tweak, I wonder how many of them were his half brothers and sisters. I'm surprised there's so many survivors, considering all the shit that just went down. Most of them looked like shell shocked prisoners of war, which considering, they were.

"All hail the once and future king," I greeted Tweak, toasting him.

"Hysterically funny Lauren," Tweak replied flatly, giving me a bleak look. Poor boy, he's not going to thank me for giving him the fey court any time soon. I guess I better go help him. I slid off my stool, grabbing a bottle of booze for Tweak. Then the world was thrown into the center of cyclone and I was sent tumbling end over end, just like a piece of debris.

**Lucia**

Groaning, Lucia sat up. Her heart was pounding in time with a certain tender area on her neck. Panting Lucia took in the dark room, her eyes seeing in through the shadows. Where was she?

"Ah, awake I see," the man's voice intruded on her consciousness. Looking to the left, she saw the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. It was so dark where ever she was, she could barely make out his facial features. The light was glaringly bright.

"Who the hell are you?"

"My lady Rayne's second in command," he replied easily, flicking on the light. Blinking, Lucia squinted, growling in irritation. The man was middle aged, with light brown hair. "You, however, can call me Sevrin."

"Where am I?"

"Empress Rayne's base of operations," he replied easily. Lucia stared at him blankly. "Her home," Sevrin commented, raising an eyebrow. Casually he strolled into the room.

"Where the hell is that blood sucking bitch?" Lucia demanded, kicking her legs over the edge of the bed.

"I'm afraid you've just missed her. She's gone back to the club," Sevrin replied, taking a seat in front of the room's coffee table. He watched the demonness with careful, amused eyes. "You're weapons are by the door." Growling Lucia stood, took a step and found herself careening backwards onto the bed as her legs buckled underneath her. "I should have mentioned," Sevrin stood, "The first step is a loo if you're a first time blood donar."

"Blood donar?" Lucia asked, raising her pounding head from the comforter.

"It's the term most of Rayne's survivors prefer."

"I'm not that bitch's blood donor," Lucia hissed.

"I would beg to disagree. Rayne finds it interesting that despite your demonic nature, your blood doesn't taste as other demon blood does. However, for now Miss Lucia, I would recommend that you rest. Empress Rayne can be quite ravenous at times, and I do believe she's drained more than her fair share from you tonight." With that, he left the room, flicking the light off. Lucia lay down again, squeezing her eyes shut as she gently touched the sore on her neck. When she got her hands on that dhampire she was evening the score. This was beyond humiliating. She'd been carried here by a hungry dhampire who was planning on using her as a substance supplier. Not to the throbbing head ache. Groaning Lucia rolled onto her side. She was a two cent sucky, sucky blood whore now. Moaning now, Lucia curled into the fetal position. Was this why matier had asked her not to go to the city?

**Lauren**

Officially the police report in the newspaper said an entire brick wall of the night club literally imploded. Implosion is an understatement. The reporter writing the story must have been over worked, underpaid, and uninspired. Journalism at it's best. A better description would have been to say that the club wall collapsed in half like a broken piece of flaming cardboard in the middle of a monsoon after having a lead pipe thrown at it. Then again, I was kicked out of the school newspaper for graphically describing what the principal could do with his head in regards to his asshole. Of course the police had few, if any, leads as to what actually happened. Their arson and explosion experts believed it was an act of gang warfare, rather than terrorists. Which was logical enough, considering the geographical location of Pandora's within the city. Why it couldn't have been terrorists, I don't know. I could have handled terrorists. What happened next, I'll never forget.

The force of the explosion picked me up and slammed me to floor several feet later. What the hell? What is happening? Coughing I pushed off the bricks on my torso, sitting. My left eye was bleeding again, more heavily than it had been before. What just happened? My head was spinning and my ears were ringing. Did a wall seriously just fall on me? I wiggled the toes on my right foot. I winced, brushing off rubble. My ankle hurt, a lot.

I wasn't the only one hurt either. Some of the people who had been alive a moment before where faceless piles of gore now. Nearly half of the human feys, what was left of Linda's court, dead, just like that. I felt my stomach revolting. I didn't see Dante or Trish anywhere. The bar they'd been sitting at was simply fucking gone. I didn't see Vergil or Tweak. I could barely hear people screaming and moaning and crying over the ringing in my ears. What was going on? What just happened? My hands hurt, glass shards from the beer bottles were embedded in my palms.

The first person I saw that I knew was Sara. She was looking at me, dazed, tugging on Aaron's arm. I couldn't tell if he was dead or unconscious. Next to him I saw Marcus. They were both laying in a pool of blood. Why hadn't they left? Why didn't they get out of this place? Sara began to cry, still pulling on Aaron's arm. I can't even cry anymore. Then the sight of Sara and her brother was replaced with a pair of boots. I stared up through wavering vision. It was Vergil. Silently he reached down and pulled me to my feet. Pain exploded in my ankle. It snapped me out of whatever it was that I was in.

"Did I mention my ankle is broken?" I asked, dazed.

"Be still," Vergil hissed. There was a trickle of blood at his temple, and his jacket was gone, but other than that he didn't look too worse for wear. At that point, the scrapes and bruises I had made themselves apparent. Would it be too much to ask that my body not be this thrashed every time I try to do something I want to do?

"What just happen?" I asked, trying to get the room in focus. My vision was all over the scale again.

"Vali is happening," Vergil replied shortly. He took the broken green star out of my pocket and used it. Like usual, the star worked like a charm. My ankle and eye were fixed in a jiffy, as were my cuts. I flexed my hands painfully, they weren't healed, the glass was embedded in them. I grit my teeth together as I began to pull them out. It felt like they were grinding against the bone. So Vali was out for blood? She had it. A lot of it. From the way Vergil sounded, she wants to paint Pandora red, inside and out. Fucking peachy. "Get out of here," Vergil said, handing me some familiar looking blue cloth scraps. "_Now_, Lauren." It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order.

Excuse me, but did he just _order_ me to leave? I do not need him barking at me, he's not a fucking general here, he's just Vergil. A fucking wall was dropped on my head. People I know may have just _died_. This isn't just some fucking game he was playing with Vali. These are people I know. And I'm pissed. _So_ fucking pissed. That bitch just ruined my fucking alcohol. She fucking destroyed my new outfit, mycigarettes,destroyed a good time with my friends, destroyed a place I was trying to rebuild. Everything I did tonight, and it's fucking _gone,_like it had never been in the first place.The bitch is going down.

"Go fucking _where_?" I asked, hissing. The last glass shard came free. Why the hell is Vali here at all? If Vergil thinks I'm leaving because he said so, he has another thing coming.

"I'd ask you not to be stubborn, however I know better."

"That bitch just tore a hole in the wrong fucking night club," I growled. A wry grin touched Vergil's mouth.

"I can't promise your life Lauren."

"Never bothered you before Lancelot," I grunted, wrapping my bleeding palms in the rags. He looked like he was going to say something for a minute, but instead tensed, bringing up Yamoto in a casual stance. The same stance he'd used to kill hundreds of demons. I knew why too. I could feel it. It felt like a huge deluge burying the entire club under pressure so thick it may have been titanium. It was an aura, putting enough out enough of a charge to make the air buzz with it. Then she was there, standing in the middle of the hole she created smiling like all this suffering was some kind of fucking entertainment. _Vali_.


	85. A Matter of Leverage

Update! On the 3rd friday in a row! Rock the cows, I'm on a roll:) Granted it's a puny update, the other chappie decided it needed to bebeaten into submission before i could post it in good faith. Enjoy!

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**Vergil**

He lunged. Vali was gone in an instant, but not before his blade had cut her deeply. Snarling Vali sent out her shards. They didn't phase him, not even when several drove through his bones and organs. They couldn't stop the change lurking under his skin. He welcomed the added pain, attacking ruthlessly, matching blow for blow.

Parrying against Vali's wires, he push forward. He was close, so very close. In a single sweep of his blade he could end everything. Jumping, Vergil brought down yamoto. Vali's wires missed their targets the barest of fractions, the wires whizzed past the edge of his vision as the blade became embedded into the rubble. Once again, Vali was gone. When she next reappeared a few feet away, a cut graced her cheek. She was using aura transportation to win her battles?  
"Pathetic hell queen," Vergil growled. Casually, Vali brushed the blood from her cheek, rubbing it in between her fingers. Looking down she eyed the torn white fabric now soaking with her blood.

"Well done, general, but can you dance?" she smirked. There was no warning as the wires rose from the ground. He was moving by then. Something was off, she was far too cocky. Vergil brought up yamoto. It's edge sparked as Vali's wires were deflected, the screech of metal grinding against metal rang out in the dim lighting of their battle arena. Two more steps and the bitch was dead.

"Do not forget what I hold in my grasp, Son of Sparda" Vali whispered, her smirk growing. Vergil narrowed his eyes, coming to a halt. Vali held up her fist, squeezing tightly. The calculating bitch. He could feel IT. It was so close…and he understood Vali's threat all too well. Pain flared to life, he could feel blood running from the scar Dante had given him. "You should know it will not be so easy," Vali commented. Her wires, he could hear them. It was too late.

The wires drove through, coming out his stomach, wrapping their way around his limbs until he was forced to his knees. _Clever fucking **bitch**._ She'd calculated it, all of it. He could feel her aura going to work, the metal conducting the worse of the pain to come. He'd seen demons go mad from the pain Vali's damn metal caused. That wasn't what had brought him to his knees however, nor was it that which kept him anchored to where he was. It was the other leash, the one she held in her fist.

"Pathetic indeed," Vali eyed the mongrel as she casually walked by. "Now for your human." It was the leash that bitch still held over his head that was causing him a majority of the pain. Damn. He grit his teeth against the pain, and bore it, even as blackness hovered at the edge of his consciousness. He knew, as was the nature of his leash, when her consciousness moved on, the pain would lessen. Until then Lauren's chances for survival were weak, though there was still a chance. If that bitch killed Lauren she would pay, he still had a need for that human. Grunting, he watched Vali move on to Lauren through the blackening haze.

**Lauren**

The cord tightened around my neck, cutting flesh and blackening the world. And still, I could hear her speaking. What had she done to Vergil? They'd moved so fast, I've never seen a fight begin and end so fast. It was surreal.

"You've been quite the nuisance, little human." She pulled on the wire, coiling it in her hand until she had pulled me to my knees. Where was Vergil? What the hell had she just done to him? I don't even know how to describe what I just saw. Like a light in her hand that she squeezed, and he just sort up gave up. I don't get it. Why is she doing this? What did I ever do to deserve this? Dammit Vergil, get back on your feet and tear her goddamning head off before I do. "Tell me: do you know what you are?" Vali asked, yanking sharply on the wire. It cut to the quick. I could feel my blood running down the front of my shirt. "I asked you a question little human," Vali said softly, pulling the cord ever so gently tighter.

"Fuck…you," I gagged. What the hell does she mean, do I know what I am?

"How can I persway you to answer my question?" Vali asked, gently. She smiled sweetly, cocking her head to the left. Even her short black hair falling into her eyes didn't cover up the delight I saw there. Oh fuck.

Turning, miss pretty in white yanked on the cord again, throwing me into the far wall of Pandora's neighboring building. I remember seeing my boots and the night sky, feeling absolutely weightless, before the back of my skull hit brick and cement with a soft thwock sound. The back of my neck felt wet and slimy as I slid to the ground. Vali casually approached me, winding another wire up in her hand as she came closer. How many of those things does she have? Bet you a dollar she has them shoved up her- "I shall only ask you once more, you revolting _thing_: what are you?" Vali sneered down at me.

"The midol delivery girl," I growled. What the hell is this psychotic bitch talking about?

"Clever little human," Vali sneered. Her hand wrapped around my throat, as she lifted me off my feet. I have a feeling alcohol is going to be a faint memory while my throat heals. …If it ever gets the chance to heal. "Clever humans are often the die first."

The gun shots ran clear in the air.

**Dante**

He'd only clipped her. The first shots were always a warning. He was beginning to think he'd just wasted his ammo, but seeing as Alistor was currently MIA, well, ebony and ivory always got the job done. "Drop the delivery girl." It was barely more than a growl.

So this was the nightmare in the closet was it? There was no doubt in his mind, the bitch was Mundus's teacher. Something he hadn't thought possible. Hell, he'd been proven wrong before. Considering what she'd done to Vergil, it made the puzzle pieces come together, at least in part. Why he was dragging the girl into it however, was now somewhat unclear.

"You dog," Vali hissed. Again he could feel her aura pulling, swelling. Dante didn't give her a chance.

"Wrong twin, bitch." The bullet nailed her dead on. All five of them. The arm holding the girl finally let go. Lauren slumped against the far wall, unmoving.

"Mongrel half breeds," Vali hissed, eyeing her bleeding arm. Her eyes were murderous. "You will all die tonight." Coiling the wire, flew out again. It was met with the harsh unforgiving steel of the Sparda sword.

"I don't think you know who you're messing with," Trish replied, landing next to Dante. She smiled grimly as the churning blade once again found it's way back into her hand. Vali eyed her, a recognizing smirk on her face.

"I would warn you against underestimating me, little demon." The wires snapped out like molten liquid. It hit the space were the two devil slayers had been standing. Dante snorted, flanking her.

"Whatever." Glowering, Vali released the whip like wires again. Smirking, Dante sidestepped it, hefting the Sparda Sword. This would be a challenge. It was about damning time.

**Vergil**

Grunting, Vergil rose to his feet. He could feel something other than pain again. Damn Dante. As much as he hated to admit it, his ruckus brother was probably the only thing that would distract Vali to such a degree. He'd be damned if little Dante was killing the bitch on his own. Vergil took hold of yamoto's pummel.

"You've seen better days." It was the construct. She stared down her nose at him with a blank look, arms crossed. Her voice was flat and emotionless. "Get back on your feet Vergil. I'll see to Lor."

"Never fail to disappoint do you?" he asked dryly. Trish chuckled.

"Why don't you ask Dante? He's currently fighting your battle."

"The hell he is," Vergil growled. He slowly rose to his feet.

"Whatever you say," Trish replied, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes shown slight amusement. The construct was enjoyed rubbing salt in the wound. She turned away.

"Please Trish," Vergil said quietly. Yamoto glinted in the streetlight. "Enough." Trish paused for a moment.

"I don't need to tell you this," she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "But try not to fuck up again. Neither I nor Dante care to clean up your mess."

"Clean up _my_ mess?" Vergil tore yamoto from the ground. "Who do you think you're fooling?" The construct knew as well as he that Dante didn't fight a battle unless he chose to. Vergil's involvement had little to do with Dante desiring a strong opponent. Without further comment the two separated, going their separate ways on the battlefield.


	86. Pride cometh b4 the fall

'ello. Sorry for the lapse, these chapters really were ready to be posted last week however...ugh... . Let's put it this way: I ever find the little asshat that decided creating trojan computer viruses was not only a 'bright' idea but actually intellectually valuable and somehow perversely 'funny'...bleh...their ass is mine on a silver plater. That being said, enjoy the update, you've earned it for being so patient and listening to me rant.

**Trish**

She wasn't doing well, surprisingly conscious, but not wholly in the realm of the living. Carefully, she tilted the human forward. Coughing, Lor spit up blood, her throat working against the barbed wire embedded there. Trish mentally winced. Humans were so fragile.

"Lor? Can you hear me?" The girl didn't respond, her eyes were far away and dazed. Sighing Trish glanced over to the battle. For once the Sparda twins were fighting, and weren't at each other's throats. It was no miracle, she knew, rather that they were both willing to put aside differences to kill a shared threat.

Watching them, buried memories began to surface. Quiet conversations she'd 'overheard' while serving Mundus on Mallet Island. She'd been found out eventually, and punishment had been severe. What she did remember were two simple words: the Accord. Though she hadn't thought of Mallet Island, or the conversations she'd overheard there so long ago, not since her first weeks living with Dante, but she hadn't forgotten those two words. Two words that implied many, many things, few of them good. Mallet Island wasn't a place she had wanted to think of, but she found it difficult not to when the eldest Sparda was near. What was Vergil planning? Did it have something to do with the Accord? Trish brushed aside the memories as Lor stirred.

"Take it easy," Trish growled, helping the human sit. "You're injured and I don't have any green stars." The girl gave no indication that she'd heard, her skin feverish warm. Trish sighed warily, humans, couldn't live with 'em couldn't live without 'em. "Lor?" Struggling to rise, the human shrugged her off. "Sit down Lauren, you're hurt," Trish snapped, irritated. She'd seen and dealt with more than her fare share of the girl's stubborn side. Still the human stood, staggering on two feet.

Trish recoiled, sitting back onto her heels, a faint gasp drowning in a hiss. She'd never encountered something like this before. Impossible heat was exuding from the human. The dark angelic scrolling had awoken. And there, on her back, even through the black tank top and fish netting, a red brand. A seal of protection. The girl's aura had grown as well, changed in an unsettling way, swelling with unfamiliar and disquieting power. For a moment Trish paused, struck with a powerful feeling of déjà vu.

Silently Trish watched the human's slow progression towards the battling twins and demonness. She didn't make a move to stop the girl. She knew better, how she knew she wasn't sure, aside from what Dante had told her. It had been something she'd heard…once…something she'd seen? Trish briefly closed her eyes, vainly struggling to follow the thought to it's wellspring. Like a tangible ghost, it slipped away from her grasp.

Was this why Lauren was special? What was this and what did it have to do with the queen of hell? What did this have to do with the Accord? What did her memories have to do with any of this? She'd never met the human before the night club. Faintly memories teased, wispy insubstantial things she couldn't quite hold onto. She knew this, yes it was familiar, _something_ about this was familiar, maybe even important but she didn't know why. And she had no way to recapture the memory.

**Jothiel**

He couldn't believe the level of suffering he was seeing. Those that were staggering around would soon bleed to death if help didn't arrive soon. Others were worse off, already unconscious or dead. Not since the last great war, had he seen such suffering. The angels, they made him sick, all this bloodshed for the second chess piece while they sat detached and safe in the comfortable isolation their corporate organization provided them. But that was the point, wasn't it? He gritted his teeth together, sickening, all of it was sick. The way they toyed with lives. Many of the people here would have gone on to live full and complete lives had the angels not interfered. Tampering with fate, it was stupid.

He had to find the demons hunters. Lor was sure to be where ever they were. Perhaps there would be time to enlist their help. Josh sighed, eyeing the dead scrolling on his arms. They were reacting to something. He could feel it in the air as well. The angels were fools to want something like this. He was a fool for enabling them, but fate often favored fools, more the pity, and he was on a fool's quest.

But it was for the person he loved. For his human family.

Slowly, he knelt down, studying the crying girl. She didn't look much past the age of fourteen. The sight of her sitting next to two unmoving bodies, he only hated what he was all the more for it. He gritted his teeth together, resolved. _There's always something you can do_, he could almost hear Tiffany's voice. It was a faint memory now, from when he'd first met her, not much better off physically than the two the girl sat by. Yes there was something he could do, despite what the angels were holding over his head, there was always something one could do. The wraith was living proof of that. Carefully, he summoned forth what remained of his grace. It would have to suffice, for now. The angels would be held accountable for their actions, however indirect, he would see to it.

**Vergil**

The other, it was emerging from Lauren's subconscious. Vergil reluctantly released his hand holds on the barriers he'd constructed within Lauren's mind, allowing the other to do as it would. They were already weakened anyway. He'd put them in place shortly after the incident at Silent Hill as a check to keep the other from completely taking over Lauren's dominant consciousness. Like it was currently attempting. So the other would uphold the Accord? Not until the bitch was broken, not until he'd had his say, then the other could have Vali with his blessing. He smirked. It had been pathetically easy fooling the black bitch. Now the real fun could begin.

**Vali **

The wires screamed, grinding against hash unforgiving hell steel. Dante stood toe to toe with Vali, much to her annoyance. And still the mongrel smirked. Shock jolted through her, accompanying a nasty revelation, she was being pushed back! The white pristine boots slid inch by inch as the mongrel applied his steel. How dare he! A bastard by blow begotten to a human, pushing the queen of hell back! Did this fool have any idea who she was? It was as if the mongrel could read her mind. He raised an eyebrow, chuckling amused.

"Not as easy as you thought, eh babe?" The friction of the two metals reached boiling point as they heated, metal grinding against metal. _BABE_? The wretched, filthy degenerate! How dare he challenge her! Over a worthless human none the less! Did the mongrel have _no_ sense of propriety? No respect for the natural order of existence? Was one human worth his life? Apparently the fool thought so.

Returning a tightlipped smirk, she summoned her threads. They would pierce the half breed from behind. They would drive through the third vertebrate down, severing all movement from the neck down. However the half-breed would still live, albeit he would die slowly. Suffocation, like the way one suffocated the run of a litter. A pity the great Sparda wouldn't see the dismal deaths of his offspring. This mongrel would die. Much in the same manner as his dog of a mother had. Vali laughed. The accord protecting that human? Ignorant angel speculations, to be dismissed as nothing more. After this matter was concluded, the little god child would die. All the angels would die, and a new era would begin. Earth would be hers to do with as she pleased. There would be no more interference.

**Vergil**

The wires screamed against yamoto as Vergil took his place next to his twin. She'd taken the bait, eaten every line of it as if it were the sugar coated truth. The utter arrogance made him sick. Had she really thought he hadn't built up a tolerance? Hadn't mastered a stimulus as base as _pain_? Or to her damning metal for that matter? After twenty years of existing with them? With her hideous and ravenous desire for 'entertainment'? He could have laughed.

No, Vali could only calculate what she saw. She saw his blood and a false reaction. She saw submission where there was none. She saw Dante's over eager thirst for an opponent. Granted, it had only served his need. She saw half demons scrambling to save what appeared to be an otherwise worthless human. She never saw the blood of Sparda. Never once saw past the elaborate lie he constructed for her to see. Pitiful. And now it was time. He would serve no others save for himself. The foul umbilical cord that bound him in service to the bitch would be severed tonight. Convenient for him, the bitch had been easily manipulated into exposing said tether.

In unspoken unison the twins moved on the queen of hell. Dante hovered by her flank, letting the wires he'd previously clashed with drive into the ground, their force unrestrained and clumsy for all their power. Vergil drove his own wires back towards their maker as Dante pulled out one of his beloved .45s, smirking. Like a puppet Vali moved into Dante's line of fire to avoid her own weapons.

The shards came to Vali's defense, driving into the bullets, prematurely exploding the mini warheads. By then, Vergil had gotten as close as he needed to. Yamoto defied logic as the blade devil triggered in Vergil's hand, becoming the heavy cleaver zanbato. Vali was hard pressed to move her skinny ass out of the way as Vergil created a crater in the earth. This time the Sparda sword drove forward, into the bitch's fleshy shoulder. Dante was deflected as the wire efficiently became armor under Vali's skillful manipulation. It was a near miss that wouldn't be repeated as Vali danced out of Dante's reach. Or so she thought. The wires however, that had been driven into the ground in her earlier attack on Dante, where now cut into nice impalements and flying through the air, courtesy of Zanbato.

As expected she disappeared. The fatal impalements embedding into the far wall behind where she had stood, several feet left of the human she'd been previously tormenting. When she reappeared, Vergil would cherish the memory. For once, the calculating bitch couldn't cover her own ass. The Sparda scythe cut up, lopping off her arm. The one holding his particular leash. Hmm…Dante had figured out that much? What else did his twin guess?

The momentary musings where pushed aside. Vali's scream was music that made the very stars shine brighter. Her acidic blood burned the ground as it oozed out of the stump left over from Dante's attack. Now was the time to act, while the bitch was preoccupied with making his twin suffer. Driving forward, his nails cut the fabric of her otherwise pristine dress, slicing through her skin. Hand broke through ribcage, the splinter of bones and sudden intake of breath worth every second of the last twenty years. Her eyes widened as his hand grasped the pulsing organ. Disconcerting as it was to find the bitch had one. Pushing, her heart came free, nestled in his fist, still attached by veins, pulsing. It steamed in the night air. Vali stared at the sight with a mixture of horror, pain, disbelief, and rage, all emotions fueled by her aristocratic beliefs. A trickled of blood ran down her chin. Silently he watched her suffer, drinking in the sight.

"You mongrel dog," Vali choked on her own blood, her words wet. In response, he squeezed the organ. He slowly tilted his hand, drawing the bloody organ closer, eyes amused at every scrap of pain each fractional movement cost her. Vergil glanced over the hell queen's shoulder, eyeing his brother. Dante was still, eyes attentive. Tightening his hold on Vali's heart, Vergil pulled, until the organ came free. He left Vali on her knees, feeling the heat of the organ in his hand, by then the hellqueen's dress was drenched with her blood.

"I. Will. Kill. You." Her words were thick with unmentionable liquids that sought to travel up her throat. Still Vali held her nose high, ever the aristocrat. "I. Will. Kill. You. All." Dante snorted, stepping up beside his twin, the evanescent smirk still in pace.

"Well?" Dante glanced over to Vergil.

"My lady," the other tilted his head in a final recognition, eyes laughing coldly. Vali glowered at the former general.

"Buh-bye," Dante shrugged. Vali's eyes widened, as she understood what was to come next. Brought so low by mere half-breeds! The indecency of it all made her furious. She was a queen of hell! Royalty! How dare they! On what right had they been born? On what right where they bestowed with this kind of power? This couldn't be the Accord at work! They were impure! She would rise to slay them! She refused to be defeated by-

Zanbato came down for the final time, cutting a jagged line that extended far beyond where her body was stooped. The blue electrical flames were intensive enough to melt concrete. Following in their wake was a single bullet, burning red hot. For an instant the black of night could be found at the center of the sun, thunder in the middle of the earthen brick city.

After, she lay there, a heartless burnt out shell smelling of putrid blood and blistered flesh as foul as any foot soldier, still undead but suffering. Her eyes, what were left of them, were glazed with pain and shock. Around her a moat of liquid metal, her own royal metal she had sought to use as a shield against the final attacks. He realized he was grinning like a fool. It was, he knew, a grin that was cold and murderous. It was done.

"Um…Verg?" He glanced over to Dante, dropping the now crushed organ, no longer concerned with the hellqueen or her machinations. It was the angels he would have to contend with now. Dante raised an eyebrow an impassive look on his face as he tossed his twin IT. Vergil caught IT carefully, cradling the object in his hand, momentarily irritated at his brother's careless nature. Exactly how much did his moronic brother guess? A returning glance showed Dante's eyes were focused somewhere over his left shoulder, miles away from the broken shell of the hell queen as he was. "What the hell is miss glow in the dark doing now?"


	87. Remergant Personality

**Vergil**

He knew the barriers had sustained damage, however he was not quiet expecting what he saw. The other had physically manifested itself once again. Leaning over the broken mannequin of the hellqueen, Lauren's skin writhed with frantic black markings. The seal of protection was clearly etched into the girl's skin, brazen. After a moment, Lauren knelt, taking the hellqueen's head into her lap, seemingly ignorant of the disaster the liquid metal could cause skin. He could hear her speaking over the distance, her voice different, carrying on the still air. A voice he had heard before. Vergil stirred.

"Afraid I'm not taking care of my responsibility little brother?" Vergil replied nonchalantly to Dante's earlier question.

"Last I checked, she wasn't aware she could do that," Dante stated flatly, not bothering to say the rest. He heard rather than saw Dante shoulder the Sparda sword. Dante never had been subtle when it came to getting a point across.

"She'll manage," Vergil replied coolly. "We did." He didn't wait for a response, he knew Dante well enough. There would be none. At least none he cared to deal with.

**Raziel**

Quietly the wraith watched from his perch. This new development created a tension within his being Vali had failed to invoke completely. He could feel the pull and knew the others of the angelic kin would feel it. He knew there were beings other than the angels who would feel the pull. If it would have been possible, he would have smirked. Now it was time, the last battle could truly begin. She was the one he sought. Silently, the wraith watched the half demon approach the human.

**Vali**

"Did they not tell you the accord would be upheld?" Gently fingers stroked burnt hair, softly tucking straggling wisps behind her ear. She couldn't breath, couldn't see. All she could do was feel and she was currently feeling in a place she had made a point of visiting as little as possible. A place she had no qualms about sending others to with her macabre tinkering, but secretly hadn't thought it possible to go to herself. Gagging, Vali turned her head towards the voice. Breathing was difficult. Those bastard mongrels, impurities, defilements. They would all die. They would die, they would die, they would die. Slowly, painfully, they would die for this…_insult_.

"Are you so arrogant? Even if the half breeds hadn't stepped in dear, you would still be exactly as you are now. All ends are the same to me, you know that. Everyone goes to my domain, and you will as well. You of all people should know better than to believe in the illusion of immortality." A caress as cool as night graced her cheek, soft fingers trailed their way down her jaw line to her chin. The dried blood was fingered, blistering skin acknowledged. Lightly nails dug in, mocking her pain. "Arrogance," the other said sweetly, "is a sin."

"But that doesn't matter," the voice continued indifferently. The cool hands moved to the open wounds the hell queen had sustained, playing over them. "You've threatened me. Threatened this body I inhibit. I can't say I approve. I thought better of you than to act in a manner so similar to the desperate ingrates that awoke me from my slumber." Like phantoms the hands moved, sight came, black shadows turning circles in every direction. Breathing however, remained a difficulty. But in the back of her mind, the rage was fading into a far more primal emotion. Fear that came only with understanding that one has made a grievous error in one's decisions. Fear in the realization that this insult to her pride was about to become a grievous pussing wound. A wound that would fester and burn before it completely healed with an ample amount of time.

"If you remember nothing else, remember this: The Accord will be upheld. Never could a whelp like you dream of damaging such an arrangement. I _will not_ allow it."

The hands tightened, cutting off what little air there had been. Gagging the hellqueen sought to scream with a throat that would no longer obey her commands. Vali's eyes widen to their fullest, focusing finally. Ethereal white eyes met her gaze, eyes that were framed with black. She had seen eyes like that before. Silently, her mind reeled in place of a body that was broken past the point of paralyzation. The Accord…_her_…it couldn't be!

"Ah but it is," the other answered sweetly, as if reading Vali's thoughts. For all the hellqueen knew, she was. The hands tightened, crushing the hellqueen's throat. "And I will not forgive your lack of foresight."

"Are you quite finished now?" Beyond the blackness and the pervading darkness, Vali silently screamed in the back of her mind once again, the rage returning. That voice. She would rather die! The disgrace of this… The blackness overwhelmed then, driving thought away. For the first time that night, Vali began to believe she would not see live out the day.

**Vergil**

The other paused for a moment, not sparing him so much as a glance as she considered his words.

"For your assistance, I will spare you and yours. For now. The Accord shall be upheld, however, this does not negate the fact that I will be the one to end you." The Other stood, maintaining her hold on Vali, forcing the demonness to stand on legs that wouldn't support a flea.

"Many have made that promise," Vergil replied, "finish with your toying. I shouldn't be the one to tell you there's little honor in it." Ending the bitch's life, yes, destroying her iron pride, yes, destroying that once beautiful sneering mouth, yes. And he'd already done the later two.

"And you are one to tell me what honor is?" The other turned, studying him now. Lauren's eyes were ethereal white, the angelic scrollings had ceased their movement and were currently turning red. Her aura was growing again, in the same unsettling way it had before. He could feel the other's twisted aura summoning something very large.

He wasn't disappointed. Beneath their feet a chasm opened, as concrete was pushed aside by an unseen force. The ground rumbled a deep complaint, opening a gaping void that was as silent and cold as hell could be ruckus and chaotic. Nothing earthside was affected by said portal, it was as if the other stood and he stood above, peering down into a pit with no way to get in. The cold radiating from it was intense. How were simple human made materials withstanding so much abuse in one night?

She was sending the black bitch to an aloof place, somewhere he had never laid eyes on. For whatever reason, she wasn't killing Vali. Odd, considering what the bitch had attempted. He met her gaze coolly, raising an eyebrow. The power of hell was dull in comparison with the raw power that danced at her fingertips, the hand upon Vali's throat further blackening the charred remains of her skin. He knew then that whatever Lauren had figured out for herself, the other knew much, much more about what he would do in the near future. He was also acutely aware how much that would complicate things.

A quick smirk joined the mischievous light her in eyes, if he was reading them correctly. "As you wish," she replied after a moment's silence. Turning, the other dropped the hellqueen, leaving her to her fate in the red haze of the hole she created. "You will regret this," the other replied to Vergil's unspoken thoughts as the hellqueen disappeared from sight, lost in the nameless hell of the other's choosing. "You will wish you had let me play with her further." With that dark abyss vanished, replaced once again by ordinary rubble and concrete. He could feel no wrinkles in the barrier that belied any previous open gateway, save for the destruction wrought by his, Dante, and Vali's hands. "That I promise you."

Her voice was a fading sigh that dissipated as quickly as the scrolling and seal had. The disturbing aura dissipated more rapidly than the other signs of Lauren's little parasitic company. The other was gone, retreated to whatever corner of consciousness it had claimed as it's own within Lauren. He'd knew of the other's freakish temperament and didn't have the energy to sort out it's message at the moment. Instead, he chose to wish it godspeed to a self imposed exile.

Staggering, Lauren turned, her eyes muted and skin pale. She was hardly aware as she stared at the three half-breeds through blood soaked bangs. Her blood ran from her throat and mouth in a tidal wave. Quietly the human fell, unconscious.


	88. Prayer

Hello! Small update, but at least it's on time for a change. Um...school's starting up so updates might be a bit sketchy until i figure out what exactly is my harder class for the time being. Anyways, enjoy!

**Mary**

She promised herself she wouldn't cry. She remembered even now, tears, crystalline in the night. He'd said he'd found his brother again. It gave her hope. Sometimes. Hope that things could change given enough time. That didn't mean she could forgive him, the man who had claimed to be her father. But Mary didn't deal in forgiveness, she dealt in blood and bullets. Odd, she rarely thought about the incident anymore, but now was as good as any time. Deathbed sentiments weren't something she planned on bringing over to the other side.

Fine, if she was going to be honest, she'd be honest about the truth, or at the very least, be honest about the events that actually happened. She _had_ cried, not that anyone knew. Few rarely got close enough to learning The Lady's real name let alone her past. One man had, half demon as he was, a couple and their adopted daughter, Amos Enzo a priest of odd habits, her mother. She wasn't her father's little Mary, she was her mother's daughter, proud and independent. It was a damned shame of a way to go out. She grinned wryly to herself, hands clenching the bed sheet. It was better than being sacrificed by one you thought loved you in return.

It would be, she reflected, a very small funeral. Nothing save for her corpse, Amos, a huge pile of lumber, and a match. No one was invited. Had she gone out killing things, perhaps there would have been a small gathering. She drew a small pained breath that rattled heavily in her chest, feeling something she hadn't before.

A darkness more vast and deep than any unconsciousness she had ever encountered before was encroaching. Mary gazed into the whiteness of the cracked ceiling, seeing faces that had long since faded dancing in pure light. They were beckoning to her, bidding her to join them. She knew she no longer had a reason to deny them, and yet she resisted. She didn't belong there. Those ones deserved their fate, many had found it at the nuzzle of her guns, also called to her from deep in the void. How could she slip quietly into the void? She didn't belong there. Did she?

"Our father who art in heaven…" Enzo began the prayer, he wasn't big on them, but he had insisted when he saw her. If anything he did it to annoy her. He had his reasons, she supposed, other than that. Being the well supplied informer and sneak that he was, he had his own story. Faith never had sat too well with either of them, but Enzo always did what he saw as appropriate.

Mary returned her attention to the growing void and the disfigured beings within it. They wanted her to die as they reached out with rotted hands, bones that had driven through the flesh scrabbling greedily. She hadn't thought too much about before, but she didn't want to go anywhere just yet. She had known if she thought about it, it would drive her to do something stupid. Like killing a room the size of a football stadium chuck full of marionettes, which was precisely how she'd ended up in this bed staring at the ceiling two months earlier than planned. At least she hadn't committed premeditated murder. Not this time anyways.

"Hollowed be thy name…" She had premeditated her father's death. Premeditated it for years. The void inched closer. Mary regarding the dead dwelling within the void with disgust, staring into the darkness with stiff unconcerned eyes. Groping they reached for her.

"Thy kingdom Come…" She had premeditated murder until she had been strong enough. "Thy will be done…" Skilled enough. "On earth as it is in heaven." The void approached, the deep chasm summoning her hither. Would there be reprise in heaven for someone like her? …Would she even be allowed more than a glance at the pearly gate before she was brought elsewhere? Could killing _that man_ even be considered murder? It had been a justice.

"Give us this day our daily bread…" If god would condemn one who sought justice, then god could send her to hell with her blessing. She could handle herself there better than most departed souls could. "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us…" She refused to cry for that wretched man. Not again. He was no father, had never been a father…and yet…blood was thicker than water. The tears in her eyes had dried long ago, the wellspring of them finally empty. But the foundations of the well still remained.

"Lead us not into Temptation…" And that was that. Justice was served and the price for it paid in full. No one said it would ever be fair. She sighed. The whiteness of the ceiling was as ethereal as the void was black. "But deliver us from evil." Mary could see her mother. She looked the way she did before she'd died, wearing a comforting smile, reaching out to her daughter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the part that was still held within the same plane of existence as the small room, was aware she was dying and could still hear the preacher.

"For thyn is the power, and the glory, forever." Sighing, Mary took her mother's hand. She was tired of fighting. This battle only drove her around and around in circles, and she was wary of the repetition. If there was anything she could have done differently, she wouldn't do it. If a devil could cry for his flesh, then she was justified desecrating that of her own. Satisfied, Mary let go, silently breathing her last. Warmly, the white ethereal light embraced her.

The priest folded his hands together, bowing his head. She'd finally moved on. Where he honest with himself, Amos would admit he had done a poor job in service to the woman, but she had never asked him for forgiveness, or even last rites, and that was good. He had none to give. Amos stood, drawing the attention of the lumbering man at the door.

"She's passed." The man nodded, face grave. "Volt, please ready her final rest place." Nodding the blond man left the room, leaving the priest and the corpse alone. Moving the priest took up the heavy gun leaning against his chair, gripping the name carved handle as best he could with his scarred hand. The Lady had been very specific as to who the gun was to go to. As for other guns, she'd told him to pawn them off, unless the first party of her last testament had some use for them as well.

"Mary." He nodded to the corpse. She'd bailed his ass out more than once, on her quest to kill every demon she encountered. Even now he was still in awe of her seemingly naïve and blind dedication to her mission. For a preacher, Amos Enzo was a rarity, in that he was an atheist and strongly believed in violence to solve peculiar problems. This usually occurred after short conversations and the exchanging of information often went awry. There was a time when he'd thought he'd seen too much of hell to believe a heaven ever existed. Mary tough…she'd always believed things could get better. That was the only reason he could think of as to why she'd requested his presence for…the current situation. He wouldn't preach and she knew it. Sly woman. Ruefully grinning, despite now silent woman, he shouldered the heavy cannon. Whistling a soft tune, the priest left the room.

**Lauren and Detective Grant-present**

"You know, I always wondered why Lady Mary stuck around."

"Beg pardon?" Grant looked up from his foam coffee cup. It had gone cold half an hour ago, about the time Star had started talking about Club Pandora's. She'd rang some pretty damn accurate bells. His division hadn't become part of the investigation until bodies were found. However what she had described, unless she had been at the crime scene personally, she wouldn't had known. Details they had never released to the press casually fell from her lips as if it had been nothing grand.

"When I was little," the black haired woman stared at his foam cup. "Mary came to the bar where Sion worked. That night some dunderheads came in, started kicking up stink. They were packing and pulled one on Kou. Lady Mary had a gun to their foreheads before they so much as blinked. I hated guns even then."

"That's how you met?" Grant asked warily.

"Yeah, you could say that." Lauren tapped ashes into the newly cleaned ashtray. "Anyways, Mary died the same night everything at Pandora's came down like a deck of cards, but that wasn't the only thing that happened that night."

**Yanos Audrin and Raziel-past**

"She's coming. Jothiel has completed his mission.."

"Excellent." The elder leaned back. "Is she the one?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Jothiel served our needs quite well."

"He had reason to."

"Not much of one," the elder replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't see how one human can be so prized above others. Granted she's a marked one, but her service to our cause is long past. She bore the vessel of our lord, her use has come to an end, and yet he still sees value in _that_." The elder sniffed in disgust. "How far our Jothiel has fallen indeed."

"It was his angelic blood that created the vessel for our Lord to dwell in."

"I understand that my son, the scion of balance is a most cherished vessel. Do not forget, however, that the vessel is a _half-breed_. An undesirable corruption of both the angelic and human blood lines. When the time comes all such impurities will be dealt with. You know this."

"… …. …. Perhaps. There is another matter Sir."

"Such as?"

"He is bringing others here."

"Others?" the elder fixed a cold eye on the robbed figure before him.

"Survivors of the destroyed fey court. The lightling princess of the fey has returned home, it seems."

"Dissolute scum," the elder sneered, understanding lighting up his ancient eyes. "The nerve of Obrion's whore daughter. She's spawned more than her share of depraved scum over the years."

"I would remind the Grand Master, this foundation serves the purpose of-"

"Of course we help all who come to us," the elder interrupted sternly, "Sin spawn born of ill repressed lust or not. They may even be of use to further Jotheil's, shall we say, willingness? He may be fooled into jumping the way we wish yet again."

"… … …I doubt it will be so easy."

"Perhaps, perhaps not, we only need him and his wretched wife for little more before their service to us will be complete. Then the purification may begin. It will be soon, won't it?" the elder wondered. "It should be done while the child is young, weak, and unable to resist. What does your mother say? When will the Scion be ready?"

"When the key is ready. It will be soon, sir."

"Good. Everything is in accordance. Tell your mother we will proceed with the ritual when the time is deemed necessary."

"As you wish, sir, however there yet one more issue I would set your attention to."

"Such as?"

"The accord," the wraith paused, hesitating, "my sister attempted to break it." The elder stared, silent in the large dark office. The small clock on his desk filled the room with it's insistant ticking, reminding the elder what little time he possessed was leaving him.

"Blasphemer," he hissed, leaning back in the leather desk chair. "Hell bitch born of a whore. She was dealt with I presume?" The wraith nodded, his ghost eyes narrowing fractionally at the mention of his mother. "And where lies her body?"

"Where ever the key deemed it nessicary to keep her. Recovering Vali's body should be an easy task for mother. There may be a possibility of using my sister to your advantage."

"Don't play games, wraith," Yanos hissed, leaning forward as he fixed the fallen angel with an acidic look. "The key is not _her_. Those misguided fool humans at Silent Hill were too weak to awaken something such as that."

"There are those that would disagree Grand Master," Raziel replied in neutral tones. "Being first hand witnesses to the potential power the key possesses, the new arrivals at New Lights doors should be given the best this organization has to offer. I would think his lordship would find it prudent to let his servant gleam what useful information there is to be had from the fey refugees. Desilute as they may be." He did not wait for the Grand Master to answer. Instead, the wraith bowed before leaving the heavy silence of the room. The wraith knew the mind of his 'master' by now.


	89. House of Angel

Huzaah! Soporatic updating coming your way! Enjoy for now!

**Ariel**

Those that inhabited the place swore the hallways extended forever, the layout of the building changing as if it possessed a mind of its own. Some even swore the hallways led right to the gateway of heaven. But of course it simply wasn't possible for one to _walk_ into heaven. Those that had been saved by the place always remember the thundering-but peaceful-silence, the smell of flowers that always seemed to hang on the air teasing one's senses-no matter how far from the green house one was, and the singing voices that reverberated through the marble hallways long after choir and mass had finished for the day. The very nature of the building's foundation, an old missionary the ocean had long ago reclaimed from the costal land, exuded the peace and calmness embodied only by years of experience and time. As the world center of the neo Christian movement, it made sense the building possessed the best facilities and calmness only money could buy.

To the outside world, the New Light Organization was a symbol of the times. A well to do charity with an irrefutable desire to help the less fortunate using a bankroll that made the world go round, according to Wall Street. Though quite a few secretly speculated at shady company dealings rivaling that of Enron or the Umbrella Corporation, it was never said New Light didn't produce results. And while many argued the separation of state and church, New Light had many influential lobbyists at DC and the senate. The president himself was refuted to be a generous donator to the charitable organization. To those who had fallen from grace, New Light was merely a gilded prison. The symbol of all that they had forsaken, willingly or not. New Light stood for nothing more than mirage of the holy hypocrisy and its eternal condemnation. It was that same hypocrisy currently dangling a certain fallen precariously over an abyss of seething anger.

"What did you say?" Josh hissed. Ariel regarded him, demeanor calm and professional behind the glasses perched on her nose.

"You can hardly expect New Light," Areil paused sniffing, green eyes taking in the wounded with a quick glance, "to house beings such as this."

"They're injured and in need of a place to stay," Josh replied flatly. "This is a homeless shelter." _And you're supposed to be an angel, gaurdians of goodwill._

"Yes I've noticed their condition," Ariel replied, tucking pale blond hair behind an ear. "However, many feel that it would be best for all if-"

"Don't. You. Dare," Jothiel growled quietly. Damn the Grand Master! He'd anticipated this as well! It was maddening! It would make sense that the withered angel of wisdom would turn away any not of his or Adam's house. The 'master' would accept his faults or he would accept fire raining down on his precious house. The scrolling in Jothiel's skin became apparent, flames flickering along the edge of his blade. "They are here because of the greed you _all_ possess."

"Don't mock the holy scriptures." Ariel smoothed out her skirt and suit jacket, pale green eyes flashing. "As a fallen, you should know, no _real_ angel is _capable_ of committing _sin_." Josh growled. Only those who had the experience of the battle field recognized the tell tale twitch of his hand, restraining a very strong impulse. The half demon in red snorted, watching with eyes that unnerved Ariel. All their blue demonic eyes. Filthy demons! How dare Jothiel bring such to this house? Where was his honor and loyalty? Ariel graced them with a haughty sniff. Those eyes gave her the distinct feeling of unwittingly stumbling into the center of a joke she wasn't entirely aware of. The gaze of the half breed in red flickered up and down, seemingly to take everything with a bored, uninterested stare. She bristled. Demon spawn, children of a hero or not. These beings were most unclean. The Grand Master had been clear in his instructions: none of impure blood was to enter New Light hallways.

"And yet you'd turn away the helpless?" Josh demanded irked.

"I didn't say that," Ariel replied stiffly.

"Then why don't you say what's really on your mind sweetheart?" Trish purred from behind the fallen. For the first time Ariel graced the demon with her full attention. Smirking Trish, hefted the Sparda sword over her shoulder. All she had to do was wait for the right opportunity to present itself, and she would use it. Ariel understood this with disgust. Demons only knew blood, violence, and debauchery. The Grand Master was right in denying them exemption from The Next Coming. "They're of mixed blood and it scares you shitless."

"How dare you," Ariel's voice was quiet. The nerve! How dare a child of Satan give voice to the thoughts of their great leader! All impurities were wretched, no matter the breed! How dare this demon second guess the Grand Master! "This is a house of _God_."

"This could be a whore house for all I can Lady," Dante snorted. Ariel's eyes narrowed, the white scrolling faintly visible under her skin. "Unless you want us to mop this place with your skinny ass, you're helping. I'm not housing thirty something, half dead fey."

"Excuse me?" Ariels voice nearly froze the air she breathed.

"You'd make the room a delightful shade of red," Trish reiterated bluntly, smirking.

"Degenerates," Ariel growled. Turning, she reached for her cell, sparing a glance over her shoulder to the motley group. There, the one the half demon carried, it was the key. She could _feel_ it. Lurking masked in humanity, a presence, it was the key. The Grand Master had also made it clear compromises where to be made to ensure the safety of the key. "Take them to the medical wing. You know the way. Our staff will be prepared by the time you arrive."

**Lauren**

"Yes, I understand you're Lauren's guardians?" A pause. "Yes, I'm afraid there's been an incident. Lauren has participated in another fight. I've been informed to request that you come and pick her up. Also the principal would like to set up a conference if possible, apparently one of the students Lauren fought with had to be taken to the doctor's office." A pause. "Yes, we feel that it would do the other students good if Lauren were to go home for the day." Another pause. "Yes, she'll be waiting in the principal's office, same place as before. Yes, thank you."

The secretary hung up the phone, casting the hard wooden bench an impassive glance. Cold hearted bitch. She'd called home. Now Sion or Dominique would have to pick me up from school early. Again. Now they'd be angry at me. It was the first year anniversary since I'd started living with Sion and Dominque. I didn't want to make Sion and Dominique upset. Not after all they'd done for me.

That was the sixth fight I'd gotten in that year. This time they'd been picking on Tiffany, the little snots in our class. When I found Tiffany, they were calling her names I hadn't heard since WishHouse because she'd been held back a year while staying at the hospital. I remember knocking down a girl with pigtails for throwing a stone at Tiffany. Then a boy, his name had been Freddie Evans, had called Dominque a _whore_ and Tiffany a _retard_. Being a first grader, I'm pretty sure he didn't have a clue what he'd just said, only that it was very bad, but I understood what he'd said. He just said no one in my school save for my sister would ever understand and accept me. No one would never even make the attempt. And he'd called my mother a _whore_.

The next thing I remember, the teacher aide was peeling me off Freddie as I sat on his chest hitting his face until I had heard something crack. It was a satisfying sound and it felt so _right_ when his nose started bleeding. Like it was a good thing that he would bleed after making me hurt. After saying something so filthy and untrue. The warm feeling grew red hot when Freddie began to cry. And I cherished every moment of it. Freddie was weak. Only babies cried when they were hurt. Only babies expected the world to bend over and kiss your boo-boos. Only an idiot expected the world to give a shit. Afterwards Freddie had gone to the doctors and ended up wearing a bandage over his face for the next half month. He never spoke to me again, though Tiffany dated him once in high school.

Sitting on the bench, I didn't care about Freddie. I didn't give a fly fuck about a whining baby who _cried_ every time he got hurt. I was worried about Tiffany and what would happen when she had to walk home by herself after school. More importantly I was worried about what Sion and Dominque would do. I didn't want to go back to living on the street. They'd _never_ threatened me with it, but it was a natural fear. I still didn't trust them completely. I guess I was still waiting for them to prove me wrong. To prove to me that all adults were like the ones at WishHouse. I didn't want to let them close enough to hurt me. Even though I loved them. I didn't want them to do to me what Freddie had.

**Vergil**

Her blood smelled like a chemical concoction. Both fey blitz and Vail's malignant aura mingled in Lauren's blood. So far the human hadn't woken. He had a feeling she wouldn't if the angels had their way. Whatever the fallen was up to, it wasn't because he had a thirst for what the Grand Master was serving. That alone led him to believe the angels would make their final move sooner than anticipated. However nothing was certain until Lauren's true nature was proven. That had been their reason at Pandora's. They'd been observing Lauren. Time was no longer a luxury now the angels believed they'd found what they were looking for. No doubt the Grand Master had been banking on the fallen's compliance in the matter. There were other places Lauren could go to receive the necessary treatment for her injuries. Very well let them heal the human. Should Vali return, however unlikely, New Light was the safest place for the woman. The angels still needed the artifacts to further their agenda. They were his insurance against the Grand Master's plotting.

In his arms, Lauren stirred, her breath a faint, weak rattle in her throat. How many times had he carried this stupid woman around half dead? Usually she forwent decorating the front of his clothing with her blood. Either way she'd be dead before the sun rose if Vali's wire wasn't removed. The medical ward was far too bright for his taste, the marble glaring in the phosphorescent lighting. Vergil growled lowly, catching sight of the doctors and their numerous assistants. Angels all of them. If he hadn't been aware of walking into a trap before hand, he certainly would have been alerted to it now. The Grand Master was doing an applaudable effort in neatly spiking the situation to his advantage. The Doctor, a middle aged Asian already covered in his share of blood, wove his way through the sea of wounded fey to them.

"Is she with them?" Petty ruses were disgusting at best and downright insulting at worse. There was no doubt in his mind the angel knew Lauren for what she was. He raised an eyebrow, remaining silent. After a moment the doctor began to gently poke around, moving Lauren's head this way and that to discover the extent of her injuries. The motion didn't allow the human to rest easy. "These are serious injuries, normally we'd ask permission before-"

"Remove them," Vergil interrupted brusquely, "or I will."

"As you say," the angle inclined his balding head, "the barbs must come out. You may call me Maniel. My staff requires approximately ten minutes to arrange for an operation room. Before we begin, are there any irritants that should best be avoided when prescribing pain killers?" A muscle twitched under his left eye. One would think the metal barbs embedded in her throat would be enough of an irritant. He steeled himself against slicing the angel from head to toe. Blue eyes bore into the angel's as he remained silent. "Well then," Maniel swallowed, "We will begin operations as soon as possible."

"Yes," Vergil agreed flatly, "you will." If Maniel the angel slaughtered Lauren, he would suffer in a new and creative way, though he doubted the angel lackey would do as much. Few angels could bare to stomach hell. These angels were not those bloody warriors of old so many believed in. Pathetic. Maniel moved on, inspecting other patients. It would be necessary that Lauren remain in public now. The angels were far too _noble_ to try anything while the woman was surrounded by the unwitting and ignorant.

"Vergil?" Her voice was faint, barely more than a soft breeze. Looking down, he saw she was awake, if barely hanging on.

"We're ready for her now," Maniel approached with a medical bed, staff of nurses in tow.

"Ready for what?" She was alert now, as much as her injuries allowed for, eyes widening as she eyed the medical bed. It was the first time he'd ever heard her heart pound this hard. _Fear_. Lauren experiencing pure, unbridled fear. He'd nearly forgotten the human's utter hatred for hospitals. "Fuck." She breathed, shooting him a minuet glare. Anger now, a more useful emotion than fear.

"Hate me for it later," he growled as the bed came to a halt before them. Gently he placed the human on the bed. Her blood stained the sheets red as she swallowed, eyes wide, watching the nurses surrounding her. Throat injuries were tricky when dealing with aura manipulation. As much as he hated admitting it, he didn't possess the expertise necessary removing both metal and Vali's aura from another's injuries. It was hard enough to do on oneself, let alone another. Vali's aura more often than naught took away from the natural healing process by attacking the host's aura, the sole force that drove the heal process. The metal acted as both conductor and weapon, inflicting the body with wounds, and wounds with Vali's aura. In this respect, Vali's aura took on a virus like quality as it sought to destroy the host aura.

The bed containing Lauren came to halt behind the glass wall of the operating room, nurses and doctor moving in a flurry of white. An air mask had already been placed over Lauren's mouth. The operation would begin in a few moments. The human would be silent for the next few weeks. That, at least, was something.

"Verg." He glanced over to his twin. As usual, Dante stood, indifferent to the bloody scenes of doctoring around them. Both were impassive to the sight of so much blood as both had spilled their fair amount of it over the years. "We're leaving."

"What will you do?" It was an idle question Vergil hadn't planned on voicing. Even so, he hadn't expected an answer.

"Round up the few demons that got loose," Dante shrugged, "Go home." He glanced over then, watching as Maniel began to cut into the meat of Lauren's throat. "They have you surrounded." Briefly Vergil closed his eyes.

"I know."

"Yeah," Dante turned to leave. "Watch your ass Vergil." Dante's voice dripped sarcasm. He was in no mood for it.

"Shut it," he replied flatly. Dante replied with his trademark smirk and a chuckle.

"At the very least, watch the human's ass."

"Get lost _little brother_," Vergil snarled quietly.

"Whatever you say Verg," Dante laughed. Then his twin was gone, leaving him to wait out Lauren's operation alone.


	90. Mission Complete 2

Howdy! 'Nother update! Enjoy!

**Rayne**

Silently she landed, prowling cat footed. The shadows themselves seemed to hide her. After centuries of practice they had better. Judging by the approaching sirens, she had approximately 10 minutes. More than enough time.

"Sevrin?"

"Yes?" the empress's second in command sounded tired.

"I'm getting a sample."

"You really think you'll find some of her blood there?" Sevrin asked doubtful.

"The human bleeds like a faucet."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate the comparison," Sevrin replied dryly. As usual the Empress's selective hearing kicked in. She'd found something interesting to play with.

"Hmm." Kneeling, she slowly drew a gloved hand through the small, drying puddle. Carefully she scooped a majority of the liquid in a small vial. What a shame to let something like this go to waste…

"What have you found?" Rayne didn't bother replying, her tongue curling back on itself, smearing the small dabual of blood. Closing her eyes she let the taste take over her senses.

"Rayne?" It had an amazing quality, a richness she'd only encountered twice. Slowly she opened drunken green eyes. She could fell the blood lust quickening her senses. Oh yes, this was exactly what she had been looking for. That left only two other leads to follow. "Rayne? Are you there?"

"I need a lift Sevrin." His sigh was audible.

"What kind?"

"A fast one." Rayne held the small blood filled vial up in the dim light, studying it . The liquid it contained didn't look special, but then again, neither did it's owner.

"Your motorcycle's been fixed." Clenching vial in fist, Rayne headed out. It would be morning soon. She'd have to take an underground route home.

"No, I need a plane." Sevrin groaned at the idea of his employer getting her bloody hands on a plane. "By tonight," she added sweetly.

"Just get home before the sun rises."

**Raziel**

Beethoven resounded, gerund after gerund of Für Elise danced forth from tapered finger tips, music notes like butterflies caught in a gentle breeze. The classical was a favorite of hers.

"How is she?" Her voice was soft and lyrical. He knew his mother's voice was pure bliss when she chose to sing. He remembered that much from birth, if nothing else before the vortex.

"The angels have healed her." He paused, taking in the sight of his normal hands, raven black hair falling into his line of vision. It was only here, in the presence of his mother, he was healed, the acidic disfiguring scars replaced with smooth unblemished skin. What would happen when his sisters came before their mother as he did now?

"And?" the chiming piano reverberated, repeating the same two notes before falling into a wave of comatose rapture. The sound becoming lilted descending steps, steps that created a wave, volleying softly from high note to base note and back.

"She's fine mother." Again the piercingly sweet notes, the same two as before, turning circles around each other. This time however she did not fall into melancholy, but rather a lively jig that seemed somewhat out of place in the tune.

"Is she aware?"

"No. The angels claim possession of her and the human vessel, however I feel the demon is safe guarding her. I wonder perhaps if that is what he had intended from the beginning. I can only surmise that he is aware of Yanos Audrin's plans."

"And what of our little general in his most holy of crusades? What of Yanos Audrin?"

"Hell bent on following father's plans."

"Of course he is," she replied amused, "Yanos always was the best of servants."

"The demon is a perhaps our only line of defense against Yanos."

"It doesn't matter," she replied unconcerned. "Blood will be shed, many will die, the world will continue." Again the graceful dip in sound, the delicate curling of her red hair fell onto the black and white keys. The soft notes faded in delirium of existence, quiet echoing melody drifted through out the quiet hall. The tune had changed now, no longer Beethoven, but a song of songs. A music box melody that haunted memory. For whatever reason he couldn't recall any name it may have gone by.

"Mother?" The sound stopped, heavy silence brutally killing the delicate notes.

"Yes dear?" Flame red hair gracefully fell over pale shoulders, the black ink-like markings still and unmoving in her flesh.

"Tell me you won't hurt my sister."

"I love my children, son."

"I was speaking of Loki." A beautiful smile graced her lips.

"My apologies Raziel. I know of your fondness for her, but it cannot be helped. Cannot be stopped. Loki will hurt no matter what I do." She paused, the smile never leaving her lips as she turned back to the piano. "It doesn't matter though. None of this does."

"I will tell her. I will tell her everything."

"Save your threats son. She needs to be told." Her voice was soft and distant, as she considered.

"I'll never understand you will I?" Raziel asked softly. Brilliant green eyes watched the red headed woman as she stood. It was only then that she turned to him fully. A wide smile danced on her lips, a real smile, one that seemed to make the room a brighter place. Never in creation had a being existed more beautiful than his mother, he knew that to be fact.

"No dear, you never will."

**Trish & Dante**

It had been a rough night for Dante, the demon problem was more or less contained and the girl was in Vergil's-however unlikely-care. Business was doing well, surprisingly enough half a million in cold hard cash had already found it's way into the bank accounts. That aside, Dante wasn't acting like himself, which usually meant something was off. Perhaps there was something the demon slayer had to get off his chest? She snorted. More like it was screaming to be let out and would die without ever seeing the light of day. She rolled her eyes at his retreating back as Dante headed upstairs with out so much as a word goodnight. He'd been unusually quite on the ride home. Brooding again. Probably about the angels. Probably about the millions of things that had transpired that night. Probably brooding mostly about his twin and what he suspected Vergil was up to.

Trish found him upstairs an hour later, sitting in an ancient chair in the center of their bedroom. Before him the hearth was cold and dark, she couldn't remember the last time it had seen a fire. He sat still and unmoving, breathing lightly eyes refusing to focus on anything but the darkness of the room. Slowly she eased her arms around his neck, finger tips lightly playing over his chest.

"Dante," she whispered in his ear, kissing his ear lobe. The demon hunter ignored her administrations.

"Dante." Softly she nibbled now, short blond hair brushing against his skin. Dante stirred, shifting away, refusing to give her his full attention. Undaunted Trish followed him.

"Dante." Her sigh carried a disappointed sound. About damn time. A moment later, pointed teeth sunk into his neck hard enough to draw blood. Hissing, blue electric eyes zeroed in on the woman, clearly not amused, even as the evidence of the wound disappeared. "You have a visitor," Trish replied sweetly to his glare, drawing back. Silently the demon hunter glowered at her, not making any attempt to vacate the chair. Trish raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on her lips. Was that a challenge? She'd won this round, whether or not demon boy knew it. The chair was as good as hers. "Enzo says he's in a hurry."

Sighing Dante rose to his feet, eyes losing some of their hostility but none of the thoughtfulness. Enzo was perhaps the only visitor that would rouse Dante. Hell Enzo Amos was one of the few consistent visitors that had yet to attempt to kill Dante upon arrival. Crossing her arms, Trish slid into place on the battered chair cushion, listening as heavy boot steps made their way out of the room. He'd left the seat nice and warm too… Sighing contentedly, Trish closed her eyes head leaning backwards, bathing in the momentary warmth and fading scent the upholstery retained. Now that it was safe to gloat, she might as well eat the whole cake.

Hands like iron manacles snapped shut around her waist, lifting the woman effortlessly out of the chair. Slinging her over his shoulder, he remained oblivious to Trish hellbent on tearing out a handful of hair. Like an automatron he headed for the large bed never faltering.

"Dante!" Trish hissed, nails sinking into the back of his shirt. He wouldn't! Not when Enzo…not when _anyone_… Wordlessly, Dante casually threw Trish down onto the soft mattress. Blinking, Trish shook wild hair from her eyes staring dizzily up at one amused half demon and a ceiling spider webbed with cracks. For whatever reason, Dante had refused to change the bedroom one iota while DNC had been under recent renovation.

"You haven't won this round yet, babe," Dante replied, trademark smirk in place, eyes still laughing at her momentary panic. Turning the demon hunter sauntered through the doorway with out another word. This time she waited until she heard his foot steps on the stairs before leaning back onto the mountain of pillows mashed into the headboard.


	91. Word of My Enemy

Update! Unwind, kickback, & enjoy!

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**Lauren**

Upon waking I decided to kill Vergil. Oh…my throat... Wheezing, I sit up, taking stock of the sterile white room. Goddamn you Vergil. What part of 'hospitals equal evil' didn't he understand? Then again, he has a liquefied heart. Coughing, I stiffly push the itchy bed sheets off. My throat feels like a semi equipped with nukes did an impromptu demolition. The pain reminds me I'm alive…peachy…

The slight pulsing at the instep of my elbow drew my attention. Oh goodie, look at all those sparkly needles they stuck in my skin. IV, heart monitor, breathing tubes shoved up my nose, and another needle they just stuck in there so they can suck on the teats of the insurance policy cow a little longer. Sighing, I yank them out. If I had a dollar every time I've done this…though the nose tubes are somewhat new. The minute the tubes are out, it feels like I've swallowed metal coated rose thorns. My eyes water as I try to breath unassisted. After a few seconds, I'm able to draw a ragged breath in. The cold air burns like a shot of vodka and juice.

Fucking hospitals. This place just passed Silent Hill on my shit list. It's cold, has that sanitized death smell, and assless dresses. I might barf all over the tacky décor in a delirium of fondness for it. No doubt, Vergil knows exactly what's going on and, like usual, I'm out of the loop. What happened to everyone? Where is here? What happened to Vali? Reaching for the demonic beeper, I sling my feet over the bed edge. Nice to know the little trinket is useful for something.

Easing the tank top over head, I let the reject night gown fall to the floor. Who idea was that anyways? Doctor humor, I'll never get it. 'Lets have them walking around with their ass hanging out of a tie on.' Fucking hilarious. Really it is. Ingrates. And what the heck, while I'm at it, my partner casually let some creep doctor undress me? Geez thanks Verggie. Carefully I pull on my relatively clean cargo pants before shuffling out the door one granny step at a time. I need answers and I know exactly who has them.

**Vergil**

Vergil stepped up to the window. The child was quiet now, after being rocked profusely by the nursemaid. It stared at him with clear eyes and a steady gaze. So this was the Scion of Balance. The angel's precious vessel. Why wasn't he surprised by the child's scent? The fallen and that woman Lor knew had birthed this child.

Again, eerie coincidence struck. That the fates of both the vessel and its key should be intertwined was no surprise. …Already the child sensed it's own nature. Vergil narrowed his eyes at the kid. Blinking, as if startled, the baby began to cry.

On his wrist, Vergil's half of the amerhurst flared to life for a moment before dying down again. He could feel Lauren's aura coursing through the gem recognizing-perhaps emitting a protective whiff- towards the small human vessel. The child would recreate heaven, earth, and hell…his powers were limited only by his imagination if the undemon remained unborn. However, were the undemon birthed, a battle for all existence like none there had ever been would be waged. Vergil could only begin to imagine the amount of damage such a war could cause…or how much benefit he could reap from the discord such a war would cause.

"_You asshole!"_ The hoarse, nearly mannish voice made him smirk. Casually, he turned his back on the nursery scene.

"Awake already?" he raised an eyebrow. Lor glared at him, full throttle, fists clenched stiffly at her sides. He didn't believe he'd done anything of late to earn that.

"I'm gonna kick your sorry ass to the moon," she snarled lowly. She couldn't even speak and still insisted on arguing. This held potential.

"You're alive, be grateful."

"You're a bastard, go to hell."

"I have. Is it necessary for me to remind you of your own resent presence there?"

"Fuck you!" She snapped, her voice rose above a damaged whisper for the first time. "What the fuck am I doing here?" Ah…that was it, it was brief but there all the same. One of the most primal of emotions had flickered through her gaze:_ fear_. Of hospitals. The woman could disarm a demon with out so much as a blink, but drag her into a hospital…

"You preferred a grave?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"I prefer my own home and you know it."

"Your home? The one the Order currently watches?" He leaned back against the window, eyeing her coolly as he smirked. Lauren looked like a train wreck. Hair disheveled and tangled, heavy bags under barely alert eyes, blood soaking through the wadding of bandages at her neck already. Not that any of it was slowing her down. "In your condition?" He added quizzically. It went without saying the woman couldn't protect herself.

"You let some psycho doctor undress me! Dammit! I want to go home!"

"Poor you," he replied dryly. Home was an ideal he'd given up on a long time ago. "It must have been difficult to receive care from another." Gold orbs wished him a slow death for a moment as she glared at him.

"Screw you," she snapped, stamping bare foot down the marble hallway. He snorted watching her stagger. The idiot would try it too, even if she passed out from blood loss in the process. Ungrateful pain.

"You're going home barefoot?" He asked. "In the middle of winter?"

"Bite me!"

"Is that an offer or an opportunity?" he whispered in her ear. "I'd advise you to choose your words carefully." A hand came up, resting ever so gently on the growing blood stained bandages at her throat. It was killing her to be unable to scream like she usually did. "This is an endless dance we do, you and I. One would think you'd already learned enough about making careless offers."

Her movement ceased immediately, anything to prevent more pain, no matter how little. Sighing, or making a harsh rattling sound akin to it in her damaged throat, Lauren went still. He forced her to back up until she was closer than he knew she found comfortable, forcing her to tilt her head back against his shoulder, exposing the wound. Gently the bandages peeled back, exposing swollen bruised skin and stitches. The angel Maniel had done a decent stitch job though the wound wasn't healing as fast as it should have. The other presence Lauren held didn't seem as combatant ready against Vali's aura as it was against other inflicting auras. Interesting… The wound would heal, slowly, but she'd scar unless she got a green star. He replaced the bandages. Not more than a month ago, she wouldn't have let him this close with out explanation or a fight.

Lauren, stuck her tongue out, undaunted. Her breathing had gone notably light as he sealed the gauze back into place. It was high time she remembered how she got here in the first place, rather than take her anger out on him. He was going to enjoy this.

Bringing up the other hand, he forced her to watch as he ground white paper and tobacco shreds into oblivion. The look she gave him would have been enough to shame a serial killer into confession. He on the other hand, simply laughed.

"Sadistic _fuck_."

"Doctor's orders," he laughed quietly. "You're going dry for a time as well." He felt, rather than saw, the muscles in the back of her neck twitch as she glared murder from her position.

"Thanks for the good news, mom," she retorted hissing.

"Quite while you're ahead. Of all people, I wouldn't think you'd like to bring up the matter of parentage in this line of discussion."

"Vergil, please, I don't want to hear it." Her shoulders slumped as she managed to choke out the words, her rough voice taking on a pleading tone. "This place isn't normal. I _know_ you can feel i, hovering in the air. It feels like I'm going to choke with every breath." And so he could feel it. One did tend to notice the holy angelic auras. It clogged the air to the point of irritation. No doubt Lauren was more sensitive to the aura due to the nature of her wounds. Unfortunately…

"That's not an option for either of us right now." He released his grip on her, sighing. Turning she faced him, arms crossed, an unhappy look on her face. "They want you here for follow up procedures and I have no intention of giving them a reason to seek you out." The unhappy look was replaced with caution and pain as she tried to swallow. The yellow red twinkle of gem caught the light as her throat moving in exaggerated gestures. Damn the amerhurst. She'd put the thing back on.

"What's that supposed to-?"

"You'll have to be patient." As much as he valued her ignorance, there were some things Lauren needed to know. Preferably in a place the angels couldn't eavesdrop. She snorted, or attempted to, shivering in the quite hallway.

"Says the tea kettle to the pot."

"Does the little human need help finding her way back to bed?" Hand went to pocket as he studied the shivering woman. Vali's aura remained in her wounds.

"You're not funny," Lauren replied flatly.

"Use this. It won't heal your throat completely, but it will help." He tossed the green star to her. It would neutralize Vali's aura in any case, exorcising the remains of the demonic spirit and allow the wounds to heal in conjunction with the angelic aura of the building. She'd heal without the tell-tale scarring and with less pain. Something only granted to humans, especially in this building.

"Oookay." Dully she studied the star, bangs falling into place, obscuring her eyes.

_That scent_. It came on the weak air current, carrying the promise of redemption and sanctity. To it smelt like burning dust, hypocrisy, and war, the eons of battles leaking out across space following the sench of past races long burnt by their angelic enemies. Blood started to drain from Lauren's face. The dull look was replaced with a stiff blankness as her hand dropped away. She swayed where she stood. Damn the angels. Carefully he caught the human, slowly easing her to the floor.

It was an aura induced swoon. Lauren wasn't prone to fainting unless she'd painted half a mile with her blood. Something he was grateful for, in retrospect. The angels had sunk their claws into the woman already, manipulating her aura as if she were their property. Arrogant pricks.

"Well done dark general." It was the Grand Master. Coolly he regarded the withered angel. He was not what Vergil had expected. This was an angel of old and his age clearly showed through his wrinkled skin. Salt and pepper hair framed a high forehead, his clothing that of a priest. He could smell the ages of blood that saturated the holy man's hands. For a brief moment, he could even see the angelic scrolling under skin, sluggishly moving.

"Yanos Audrin." Vergil greeted him indifferently and unimpressed. It was then he bothered to acknowledge the two angels at his side. The secretary from before, Ariel and another one, one who also looked as if he were an angel of old. Not many old angels had survived the last couple of millenniums, the fallens aside. Exactly how many did Yanos have in his pocket? More to the point how intent where such angels on staying in said pocket? How many had the Grand Master rallied to his cause?

"Our reputations precede us, however introductions are still in order," Yanos Audrin grinned widely, gloating unbridled. Disgusting. Vergil raised an eyebrow not bothering to reply. "You've met Ariel. This is would be Metatron. They will be Lauren's assistants during her recovery procedures." Vergil smirked coldly. Was this a challenge?

"That won't be necessary." Rising, he cradled Lauren. They wanted what the human had, and they wanted it now. It was a hurried and over simplistic trap if clever. They knew he couldn't stay and watch the human day in and out. The angelic aura would drive him to commit various degrees of murder if he had to tolerate it any longer. If there was a down side to being demonic, this was it. As eternal enemies, there was only so much one race could bear from the opposing and opposite race before succumbing to the 'unnaturalness' of the enemy's aura.

However, the angles also didn't know how stubborn the human could be, especially with those she didn't share a familiarity towards. Lauren wasn't as stupid of a game piece as they were hoping for and he was banking on the fact. He merely had to out wait the angels. In the mean time, this polite façade was as pleasant as it would get.

"As you wish, should she require assistance however," Yanos trailed off, glancing over to the window. The child they would claim as the vessel was sleeping soundly as well. Unique choice they chose in subduing both key and scion. "I will never ask twice, demon spawn. They will both be mine." Blunt and to the point now that all ignorance and innocence lay asleep no more than a pace away.

"Careful king of kings," Vergil smirked genially. "You have yet to gain your victory." The Grand Master tilted his head at the Halfling's idiosyncrasy. Oh yes, this angel was old. Yanos, like himself, knew the meaning of waiting. Ariel was less patient with the mocking of her holy laws. The scrolling under her skin was faint, pulsing pearly hieroglyphics few could read.

"It's high time the woman rested, wouldn't you agree?" Yanos asked. "Metatron will escort you to her rooms."

"Don't insult me," Vergil replied impassively. "I'm no dog at your table. She'll remain out of this until it's time." The angel considered, no doubt putting into his calculations the half demon's amassing aura. Wordless, Metatron drew forth a halberd from its place at his back. One handed, yamoto flicked out two inches from its sheath in response.

"I am inclined to agree with you, demon, ignorance is bliss," Yanos replied after a silent moment. With a wave of his hand, he unarmed and dismissed the very idea of violence that night. "See to the human as you will, but know in the end she will be ours. This war is already won before it has ever began." Turning the trio left, leaving both human and demon alone in the silence of the thundering hall.

**Rayne and Lucia**

"Time to get up little donor," Rayne casually pulled the covers off the sleeping red head. Reaction was instinct as Lucia lunged forward. Sidestepping, Rayne reached for the demon's throat, nails digging in lightly at the trachea and jugular, halting the Arcadian's attack.

"Bitch," Lucia snarled, wincing at the pressure on her throat.

"Come now," Rayne purred, smiling seductively. "It wasn't so bad was it? Some have even gone as far as to compare the experience to sex." Short sword lashed upward, but the empress had retracted her hand already.

"You're a pervert," Lucia replied flatly. Guardedly she eyed the dhampire. Rayne thought she looked ridiculous. Kneeling on the bed, barefoot, Lucia was tense, both short swords drawn up in a tight defensive position.

"I came to ask you a question," Rayne commented, ignoring the other's previous comment.

"Sure you did," Lucia growled.

"Chi," Rayne paused, raising an eyebrow, "Does that mean anything to you?" Lucia felt her mouth drop open. Slowly, short swords lowered.

"What did you say?" her voice was less than a whisper. No one called her that. No one but Arius.

"Chi," Rayne repeated indifferently, "I was told it means 'ten'. Interestingly enough, you have 'ten' tattooed on your arm, sweet blood."

"How do you know that?" Lucia hissed.

"It's a roman numeral," Rayne raised an eyebrow. "I knew the Romans." Lucia hissed under her breath. What was the dhampire after?

"What do you want Rayne?" Chuckling wickedly, a frosty smirk on her lips the dhampire left the room.

"I'm leaving ten minutes, sweet blood, with or without."


	92. Baby Gabe

hey. here's an update. enjoy.

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**Lauren**

_You were the first born. I remember you, standing over me when we were younger, laughing. It was a rare thing, you laughing. The older we got, the less you smiled as we learned more and more of our natures. As the youngest, I never fully recognized my nature, only that I understood the order of life. As we grew, it was you who first realized things were dreadfully wrong. _

_After all we were his own flesh and blood, we were his spawn, his weakness if we could have been called that. Many opposed his human body, few openly challenged him. His left handed warrior Mundus was a terror of an angel. Back then, all angels and demons were gods, there was no name for what our father was. I remember watching mortals tremble at our father's feet as he systematically killed them, and I felt ashamed that he would so abuse something so much weaker than himself. When I realized he felt that way about all of us, even his own family, I was shocked. _

_It as then the rebellion began. _

_We rose quickly through the ranks of the resistance. By the time the war came to an end everyone was terrified of you. They had been too cowardly to openly opposing you during the rebellion, terrified of your nature, of what you could do. Those same cowards turned on you like a pack of rabid dogs the moment Father was subdued. The moment you were weakened, having dealt with both father and his lackey Mundus. I can only surmise from the rumors I've heard, that Mundus became deranged in his fall to hell._

…Mundus? Who is-?

_I don't remember what happened next. Most likely, they threw you into the vortex, as they did to me. I don't know what happened. No one does, not really. Only that Vali was able to escape while we were sacrificed for a new Eden. This new creation with its flaws is far more beautiful than the perfection of heaven. Even you agreed. You said you had finally learned why the immortals hated and despised humans. Tell me, do you still remember? I no longer remember what you told me, about humans and their value, but I believed in you then. I still do. More importantly, do you remember what we were? What we did?_

What? Who are you?

_It's okay, you needn't remember me. Just know, I remember you. I remember your companionship, your loyalty to your siblings, your love-if it could be termed as such-and respect for life and death. Even if you never remember me, I won't stop caring for you as my eldest sister. You were my only friend in my time of need. It was you who pushed me from the vortex before the insanity of pain took root. I promised myself I would be there for you should you ever return to this place. No matter the guise you wore, I knew I'd recognized you._

Sister? I have a sister. What do you mean, I'm your sister? Who are you?

_Time grows short. I hadn't meant to disrupt your dreaming. You were dreaming of past memories weren't you? Of your human family? Do you love them as much as you did our family? You were smiling in your memories. So many things about you remain unchanged, but there's no doubt, you've changed. If it's possible, I admire you even more for it. So few things change with immortals these days._

"Lor?"

_Beware. They're swarming around you like vultures. What they did in the past, they seek to do again. As in the beginning, they wish in the end. This time, they seek to utterly destroy you. It should come as no surprise, I suppose._

Who are you? Do I know you? Why do you seem so familiar?

"Lor? Can you hear me?"

_Perhaps we'll have a chance to speak again, very soon. I look forward to it.._

Wait a dang minute! What is this?

"Lor? Wake up sleepy head." Turning over, I nearly fell out of bed. Blinking I stare the white hospital floor, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. What a dream…can I even call that a nightmare? Who was that, standing there and talking? More to the point, _what_-and _who_-was he talking about? Demonic stuff throws a monkey wrench into everything. It took me a moment to focus in on a skinny Tiffany and one very small squirming bundle of blankets. She was wearing a simple white dress, sitting in those uncomfortable visitation chairs patiently waiting for my attention.

"Whoa, Tiffany?" I drew a hand through my hair. "What are you doing here?" Yuck. Man voice. Vergil was right, the star helped, but it hadn't quite healed my throat completely. Speaking of which, where the is the half-demon? Tiffany chuckled, gently rocking the white bundle in her arms. Wow, when was the last time I just _talked_ with Tiffany one on one? Wait a minute…did that little bundle just _squirm_?

"Don't sound so surprised. I've been here for the last month or so. Little Gabe was a preemie." Tiffany cooed. Tiny little fists waved back from the bundle of blanketing which was definitely squirmed. Was that? What I thought it was?

"Is that your kid?" I asked blankly. Whoa...talk about being out of the loop. "Can I see?" The kid was preemie? She'd been staying how long? I am so not a morning person. I scuffed up my hair again, trying to feign wakefulness and failing miserably.

"You can even hold him," Tiffany replied rolling her eyes but smiling at me good natured. What's the deal? This is like a complete 180 from the last time we spoke.

Carefully she handed the soft little bundle to me. I didn't know it was that easy to fall in love with someone 21 years and 9 months younger than me. Gabe was cute. _Awww_…_so_ _cute_. ♥ So so so _so_ cute! He has his daddy's chocolate eyes that absolutely melt your heart and his mama's soft curly hair. Yawning, little baby Gabe stared up at me, gumless jaws opening barely more than a fraction of an inch. _Awwww!_ Blinking, the little blue hat fell off his fuzzy little head as tiny fists bunched around his ears. Chocolate eyes stare at me half open, little lips working. He's so tranquil. The small uncoordinated movements of the infant's arms, the baby powder smell…he's just so _cute_! Clearing my throat I realized I'd been cooing at the baby.

Gently rocking the bundle I glance up. Tiffany was sniggering at that point. I gave her a dirty look. How come nobody said anything? Dammit, I'm supposed to be family too. Tiffany's lost weight. She might even be skinnier than before she had the kid. I'm no doctor, but even I can tell that's usually not a good thing. She looks tired. The bags under her eyes are a match for mine.

"You been okay?" I ask quietly. Is she off her meds?

"Hm?" Tiffany stares for a moment, before smiling, "Oh I'm fine. Having a kid is more difficult than they make it seem." I'll bet.

"He's a squirt." A very _very_ cute squirt….who has the smallest teeny weeny, itty bitty hands and feet… His eyes are so adorable...

"Believe me, it doesn't matter," Tiffany replied dryly. I laugh at her ire. Even though baby Gabe just decided to pull on my hair with one drool soaked hand.

"So why Gabe?" I ask as Gabe yanks my head to the left, gurgling. Tiffany winces. For a moment, it's like she's in pain. I better be careful. Maybe the kid's taken out handful of hair already.

"No reason," Tiffany shrugs. "How's your throat?" Can't I get a break anywhere?

"Can you cut the mommy act already?" I ask flatly. "You already got one kid. You don't need to wipe my ass too you know." Besides, for someone who's not taking her medication, she doesn't have any nagging credentials.

"Wha-?" Tiffany stares at me for a moment before bursting out in peels of laughter. She's laughing so hard she almost falls out of her chair after a moment. I don't see what's so funny. I was serious. "I was just concerned, Lor. You're still my sister. A very grown up sister I might add. I'm not here to yell at you."

"Really?" I ask flatly, raising an eyebrow. No torching? No flames? No running for the hills? "That's all you're going to say?" BS.

"Well," Tiffany pauses, eyes thoughtful. Knew it. "You drop my kid on his head and I will be upset." I raise an eyebrow. Uhuh, upset.

"And how upset would that be?" I ask. A blue flame, the size of a candle flame, dances an inch from my nose before quickly snuffing out. "Ah," I comment.

"Yes," Tiffany smirks nonchalantly. Alright, tough as stone bitch is back…just…tempered a bit.

"Okay, mommy," I reply rolling my eyes. "Take your drooling blob back." About half my hang is now drool soaked. The kid's loosing cuteness points…but his feet and hands are so tiny…and he's waving them around again…

"He has a name Lor," Tiffany replies taking back the baby.

"This much drool and I actually have to use his name?" Tiffany laughed then, cradling lil'Gabe against her.

"Well, then," she rose, "get dressed Lor." I stared at her flatly. All I have is an assless dress and clothes drenched with demon blood. Where the hell does she think I'm going? And with the smell in the air…Vergil said not to let _them_ seek me out. Whatever the hell _that_ means. Elusive half human bastard. What the hell is he after now?

"What?"

"It's a surprise," Tiffany replies, baby on her shoulder now. "There's something I want to show you." _…Beware…they're swarming around you like vultures..._ The niggling sensation in my gut tells me something about this place doesn't add up. Seeing as the niggling sensation hasn't failed me yet, I'll trust it. That aura, or whatever it is that saturates the air, it's about as natural as demons popping out of the ground like flowers. Like they did at Pandora's. Tiffany wouldn't screw me over, but then, why has she been here for over a month? How well is she anyways? I've never seen her lose so much weight, not even when we were living on the street. And where is everyone else? How many survived Vali's attack? Is Tweak okay? What about Aaron, Marcus, and his little pain in the ass sister? Something isn't right, I just don't know _what_.

"Right," I nod, "give me a few minutes."

**Dante-Last Night**

"What drags you to this corner of hell?" Dante asked, pouring the priest a glass of brandy. Last he heard 'Amos' Enzo Ferrino was bouncing around Europe. What exactly prompted this visit? It sure as hell wasn't his boyish good looks. Enzo smirked at the play of words, vividly remembering the first time the demon slayer had said that. Easily he took the glass, eyeing the amber liquid.

"I'm on an errand, thought I'd drop by," Enzo reclined in the waiting chair. "How's the business been treating you?"

"Same old," Dante eased back into the desk chair sliding the uncapped bottle of whiskey before him on the desk. The demon slayer tilted his head to the side, taking in his old friend. "Enzo, you never come here unless there's trouble." And for once, Dante was fairly sure he knew what direction the trouble was coming in without the priest's advanced warning.

"So?" Enzo emptied his glass.

"So what's the trouble," Dante replied flatly, not amused by the usual banter.

"No trouble," Enzo replied, standing. Dante raised an eyebrow. Enzo smiled warily at the half-demon's disbelief. "You take on anything that storms through the front door, no questions asked, but you won't believe a friend?" Two eyebrows rose this time. Enzo, sighed, setting the empty glass on Dante's desk. "She's dead."

There was no question as to who 'she' was. She had been there in the same corner of hell when the priest and demon slayer first met. For his part the demon slayer didn't behave as he thought he would. In fact, Dante looked like he'd expected the news. Somehow the priest wasn't surprised by the knowledge.

"Her body?" Dante asked after a moment, leaning back in the chair head flopping back to stare at the ceiling.

"Burned," Enzo replied, "at her request." Dante made a non committed sound. "She had another request as well."

"Yeah," Dante picked his head up, staring at the priest. "I know." Ebony played in the devil slayers hand.

"Other than the obvious one," Enzo amended.

"And what might have that been?" Dante asked. Ebony ceased it's twirling.

"Her words were, 'Let's Rock.'" Enzo hefted the heavy gun. "She wanted you to have it. Figured you get more use out of it." Dante eyed the gun as the priest set it on the desktop. Kalina Ann glistened in the dim light of the shop. Slowly he leaned forward, noting the inscribed handle. By then Enzo was at the door.

"Running already?" The cocky tone was there, but the priest knew better. He glanced over his shoulder. Pale blue eyes burned through the dim shadows.

"I'm always on the run," Amos shrugged. "See you around Dante."

"See you around Enzo."


	93. A Sweet Taste

Hells Bells, hell week is officially over! The weekend is near!! Fuck yeah!!! Update for you, lovely!!! Enjoy!!! (Celebrate like it's your birthday!!!!)

(Oh yeah, watch the South Park season permiere all you World of Warcraft fans. you'll get a kick out of it. promise.)

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**Lauren**

Green gold. Everywhere. Everything was green and blooming. How was a place like this possible? Everything was warm. It made me wonder if there might actually be a heaven. If heaven smelled, then at very least, it had to smell the like this. There's two feet on the ground outside, but inside New Light's green house it's mid spring. The air carried a moist smell that melted into a taste that lingered your tongue. The place is beautiful and the path we're walking is the soft under foot.

And despite the beauty around me, if my combat boot gets stuck in another mud puddle I'm going postal. I refused to wear the little white cult sneakers Tiffany offered me. I still have dignity. Feeling like death warmed over ought to be enough for one person. Scowling, I yank my foot out of the gunk.

"You really don't like wearing that do you?" Tiffany asked, shooting me a glance as we walked along the dirt path.

"Do I look like Virgin Mary?" I snap annoyed. I actually laughed when Tiffany handed over the dress to me. It was an ankle long bag made out of white cotton…and it _flowed_…it was nearly identical to her own dress. Come hell or high water I swore I wouldn't wear it. Next thing I knew was dancing around flames shimmying my ass into the little pansy handkerchief as fast as humanly possible. I growled as my boots got stuck in _another_ mud puddle.

"You were the one who said you're clothes were filthy," Tiffany reminded me cheerfully. I was also the one who said she was a brainwashed to wear something this kitschy.

"I didn't ask you to replace 'em," I retort flatly, staring down at the altered white nun dress in slight disgust. I get attacked by a demon now and it's going to laugh at my granny panties as I attempt to kick it's face in. Tiffany finally relented after half an hour of haggling, hassling, and repeated scorching. Since then the sissy dress became worthy of being worn decently in public. Slits up the sides left a lot of lee way for leg movement and the pitched top which hadn't fit to begin with got a tear make over. I figured the doctors owed me. "Where are we going anyways?"

"You'll see," Tiffany smiles, shifting the baby to her other shoulder. "We're almost there."

Ten minutes later we come across this insane clearing. It's was a temple to nature or something, the kind of thing Tiffany was into. Low stone seats over grown with vines sit silently before a stone alter of sorts. Behind the small pavilion, sunlight glares off fresh powder, reflected in turn by the small pond surrounding the pavilion like a moat. Rising from the water, a crystal stone hedge sits quietly, absorbing all light and throwing it back tenfold. The place is stunning. A small bouquet of flowers, still fresh, has been placed on the alter. I didn't think places like this existed. It's beautiful. Even the warm tropical air breathes tranquility and calmness. Almost as if this place has never seen violence. Never seen blood. Never seen the thousands of inventive cruelties the world holds. Impossible. No place this serene should exist. Carefully I make my way out into the thick of the stone pews.

"I was hoping we didn't have much farther to go," Tiffany sighed, taking a seat, "Little Gabe may be a squirt but he can be heavy." She rocks Gabe a moment before continuing, "Well?" Her tone is appreciative when she speaks next. "What do you think?"

"I like it," I reply quietly. A lot. The tropical heat is seducing, like a rich blanket thrown over your head in the middle of a long cold night. I don't know why, but this place strikes a cord. Dominque would have loved it. …If she were here.

"Tiffany!"

"Josh?" I turn in time to see Josh pull Tiffany in close. Geezus, you wouldn't think they were married they way they act. I chose to tactfully ignore them as they continue to eat face. Their kid is going to have so much mental scarring.

Wandering I explore the moated temple. The crystal stone hedge soars ten feet high, the bottom of the moat pond nearly endless. As I near the alter, the smell of flowers becomes overwhelming. Inhaling deeply, I soak it in. The scent of jasmine, rose, lavender, cloves, lilacs-millions of flowers I never knew existed-greet me. It's as if someone is holding out their hand and telling me to step forward. A wave of numbness spills over me. I've never been so hooked on anything like this, its like I can't _breath_ enough. Or do anything to absorb this place in my veins. To keep it with me.

I stumble to the alter, tripping over the stupid Virgin Mary dress Tiffany made me wear. I want to touch the stone. It feels warm under my hands, taking away the cold chill the hallways of New Light gave me, even with the odd cut marks that mar it's otherwise smooth surface. Sunlight plays over my hands as I run my fingers into the deep groves. What is this? What am I feeling? How can a place like this bring back so many memories?

I could lose myself here. Lose myself and forget all about everything. All about the world. Forget about people. Forget names, faces, dates, events. Forget everything that hurts. Just lose it all in a wave of oblivion. Meh…I can tell I need a bottle of Jacks. I haven't felt this way in forever. I haven't really _felt_ anything since mom and dad died. Dominique should be here to see this. Dad should be here to see this. My fingernails grind against the hard stone alter.

"Lauren?" Easing my eyelids open, I stare at Josh mulishly. He takes a tentative step towards me, holding out his hand. "Come." Why? If I can just stay here and forget everything as soon as I remember it, never moving on. Never having to move on. I miss dad so much. I want alcohol. I don't want to feel this way. I'm not even sure what the hell I'm feeling. Whatever it is, alcohol always helps. Always.

"Lor?" Tiffany asks softly, holding Gabe. And like that I feel it. Under my skin. The scrollings. They're speaking to me. Staring down at my arms, the black markings writhe with a frantic life of their own. They look like they're turning _red_. For some reason I know I should care, but I don't. Whatever. I _don't_ care. It's like slipping into a warm bath and letting go. Everyone knows its always so much more easier to do as the water turns red. And never wanting to give a shit about _anything _again sounds so good it has to be too far from right.

I don't know how, but I'm falling. A deep void just opened up, sucking up all the warmth, all the light, the water, the crystal, sucked up the smell of heaven. I didn't fight it. I just fall. Into the void. Following everything that didn't make me feel or remember.

**Jothiel**

It was done. The pulse wave echoed through the halls of New Light. It was barely tangible, the pulse that flowed through the air, traveling from molecule to molecule. A signal to those who knew what to look for: the sweet little taste of death that painted every aspect of mortality a darker hue. She had reacted, exactly as the angels expected she would. The Act of Betrayal complete. He'd take the brunt of it, as the sole Betrayer. He could sense the Grand Master coming. There wasn't much time. Lauren had to get out of here.

"Raziel." The ancient's name fell from his mouth, burning with the necessary power needed to summon the wraith. Turning from Lor, Josh took in his wife. She was pale, holding their child tightly to her. God he hadn't seen her in a month. To see her now, so hurriedly, not able to say what he wanted to so badly say….

"What is that?" Tiffany couldn't tear her eyes away. "What _is_ that? In her skin, it's-"

"I'll explain later," Josh reached for her arm, turning her away from the sight of Lauren. "We don't have much time. Go back to your room Tiffany, act as if this never happened. I don't want them to see you here."

"Josh what is that?" Tiffany demanded, ripping her eyes from Lor. "What is going on? Why was she supposed to come here in the first place? She can hardly walk in a strait line! Her throat looks terrible. And just a moment ago-I haven't seen Lor so depressed since mom and dad died. What-"

"Not now," Jothiel replied hurriedly, pushing the woman towards the path. "Go. I'll take care of Lor."

"You better come back with a damn good explanation," she replied waspishly.

"Just watch our child," Josh sighed quietly. "Love him. Be a good mother."

"I do. I am. I-I try," Tiffany paused for a moment, her eyes confused as the sternness fell way. They almost looked hurt. He'd explained to her as much as he could. It hadn't been enough. He hadn't had the time to explain what Lor was. "Josh?" she began again.

"I know you try. I'll join you as soon as I can. Go back."

"I love you." She came forward then, soft lips grazed his before she turned and hurried away as he had asked. For a moment he was taken aback.

"I love you too," he whispered softly to her retreating back. If only he'd had more time. If only he could explain properly. If only he hadn't fallen in love with her in the first damn place. If only he could spare her the pain the world unleashed onto innocents. If only, if only, if only.

"The Act of Betrayal, I presume?" the disfigured angel asked. The barrier shielding the worlds shuddered as the angel came into being.

"As they asked of me," Josh spat, turning to take in the robed figure. "Take her from here." Ethereal white flame eyes regarded the fallen impassively above the course brown shroud that hide everything else away.

"Take her where?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere," Josh studied his sister in law. "Anywhere but here. Take her somewhere she'll be safe." She had turned her back on them, still running her hand over the stone repeatedly. The red angelic scrollings were awakening with a sinister light. He could feel bottomlessness of the Other as it pushed it's way to the surface. Lauren had been betrayed to her enemies, much as Judas had done to Jesus. They'd had _him_ betray her and he'd done as they asked. Details wouldn't matter if Lauren ever learned of it.

"Are you certain this is what you want, betrayer?" The use of the title was intentional. He knew what would happen next only too well. Both knew the role Betrayer, by history's example, was one best avoided.

"The Grand Master is coming," Josh hissed. "Are you helping or not, _ally_?"

"As you wish," the wraith sighed. "This will not bode well for any of us."

"Save your prophesizes," Josh replied, drawing his sword, "you claimed you loved your sister." He could hear their foot falls. Damn. Yanos had Metatron in tow. The ancient halberd bearer, once his peer, was more than a match for any warrior.

"You claimed you loved your wife." Glaring dark eyes met white one. Neither said anything as the Grand Master approached. After a moment the wraith sighed, turning he motioned to Lauren, beckoning to her with his aura. Raziel turned again to the fallen. "I will watch over your wife in your absence as well," the wraith whispered, gently drawing Lor close, "as best as I may." She watched the unfolding scene with blank eyes devoid of emotion or life, the conscious spark completely gone. Tiffany was right. Lor hadn't been that way since their parents died. Energy swirling around them, Josh could feel the barrier bending under the wraith's manipulation.

"So be it," Josh nodded. "Now go." When he looked over his shoulder next, they were gone, the barrier rippling shut, leaving him alone to deal with Yanos.


	94. Paired Reactions

**Sarah**

Aaron's gone…AaronAaronAaronAaron…I still can't believe it. Aaron's gone and he's never coming back. He's never coming back. Never coming back, never coming back, never coming back. Him and Marcus, they left me all alone. I'm all alone. Blinking she drew a rough hand over her nose, before continuing to rock. My brother died. My brother's gone. I'm all alone now. Why did this happen? How did it happen? Aaron, I love you, why did you leave me all alone? A gentle hand touched the girl's shoulder, making her frail frame jump. Eyes numb, she pulled away, arms hugging her knees.

"Sarah." Tweak's voice intruded on the girl's silent grief. She was sitting in the same seat she had been in when Aaron died in operation. "Sarah, listen to me," Tweak sighed patiently. Eyes finally focused.

"Aaron asked me," Tweak paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. Hysterical humans he was used to, hysterical teenager girls related to one of his recently dead buddies, that was a new one. "Once, from before," Tweak cleared his throat, "he asked me bring you home. To take care of you until your family was contacted, make sure you were in good hands." Her eyes didn't register anything, though the silent tears had stopped. He took that as a good sign.

"Home?" Her voice was hollow.

"Yes." Tears welled up in her eyes again, blinking she passed a hand under her pink nose.

"He promised." Sarah whispered, voice strained. Tweak regarded the girl, waiting for her to continue. "He promised we would all go. The four of us. You, me, Marcus, and him. We'd all go home together." Tears flowed over, running silently down her face.

"I know," Tweak agreed quietly.

"I miss him," Sarah sobbed, lunging for the half fey. Taken by surprised, Tweak stepped backwards, off balance. The girl's small arms twinned around his waist as she bawled into his chest. "I want my brother!"

"I miss him too. It'll be okay," Tweak replied softly, patting the girl's head. "Some day. It'll be okay." It wasn't much, there wasn't much he could offer the kid, but it was something.

**Lucia**

The dust from the explosion had long settled. Vultures and the vagabonds that passed for coyotes on the island had long picked over anything worth noticing. Not many-excluding her stubborn Matier-lived on Dumary Island since the calamity known as Arius. Lucia knelt, squeezing a handful of blackened dirt in her fist. She hadn't realized this is where the dhampire had meant by traveling.

Behind her, one of the mercenaries Rayne hired snickered. The odds were good she knew what the scuzz was snickering about. Lucia didn't bother turning and filling him with abnormally sharp spikes like she usually would. Rayne had intentionally hired the lowest of the low, the meanest, dirtiest, filthy minded she could find. They were also solo characters, no family to miss them and no one to notice their disappearance. They had to be ten of the most disgusting excuses for human meat bags she ever had the misfortune of coming face to face with. How Rayne had tempted them into traveling the abandoned island she _definitely_ didn't want to know…though she held a few sneaking reservations. Sexual favors usually were the payment for these types. One thing was certain, the hired help wouldn't leave Dumary alive. They were completely clueless as the Empress's true motivation for hiring them. Lucia on the other hand, wasn't so stupid. She saw the reason every time the dhampire smiled too widely.

"Do I have really have to make promises to bring you to heel?" the dhampire's voice touched her ears like a caress, bringing unwanted tension to rest between her shoulder blades. Rising Lucia turned, coming face to face with the saucy Empress. "You love it so much when I force you Sweetblood," Rayne smirked softly. Lucia still didn't understand what the hell the Dhampire was after. There was no call for the her to be at Dumary Island.

"Excuse me?" Lucia raised an eyebrow.

"So you won't be their guide?" Rayne asked innocently. In responce, two short swords arched up, lunging forward. Rayne's own dual weapons clashed with the demon's.

"Bitch," Lucia swore coldly, glaring downward as much as her two inch height difference would allow. "What makes you think I'd let that filth saunter casually through my home?"

"Because if you cherished this place half as much as you claim to, you wouldn't have abandoned it," Rayne replied, still smirking. Lucia's eyes widened in surprise. That wasn't true! ...Was it? No, she'd lived here her entire life...she would never abandon her home. Taking advantage of the demon's stunned silence, Rayne leaned forward quickly, flicking her toungue against Lucia's cheek. Recoiling, Lucia pushed the dhampire away, hissing. Roughly swiping at her cheek to remove the ingering sensation.

"Blood sucking whore."

"Yummy," Rayen purred, her smirk growing as she ran the tip of her tongue running over her lips. "Come sweetblood you won't be disappointed."

"I'll kill you some day," Lucia retorted flatly.

"That's what they all say," Rayne shrugged, the quick smile never leaving her mouth, "in the begining. More than a few have chosen to call me by other names. Afterwards." The extra twist in her hips as she walked away gave a clear indication what 'other names' implied.

Disgusted, Lucia turned to the sunken embankment before them. What had once been a thriving city now sat precariously in a sink hole, a deep gorge that had opened and taken the city into mother earth's bosom. She remembered walking down the streets for the folk fairs when life had existed in the city. Now it was a skeleton, a corpse, the diversity of culture it once possessed silently slipping away into one of history's many hidden closets, soon to be completely forgotten. The atrophy of their once proud culture made Matier weep at times.

Even worse than her mother's tears, she still called it home. The Dhampire was wrong. This place would always be home. It was a small hope, but people were returning to Dummary. That alone was the only reason she had returned with the Dhampire. Anything Rayne wanted from the island would doubtlessly leave it in a burning heap. Lucia was hell bent on preventing that.

**Vergil**

The process was more painful than he had thought. Biting down a wince with iron will, he felt for the crevice with a thumb. The jagged edge was sharp enough to cut. Small droplets of blue red blood fell onto the jewel, making it glimmer brightly in the darkness. Carefully he fed the gem his blood, mending the break one millimeter at a time if that was what it took. Dante had so casually tossed it to his brother while they fought Vali. It made him question whether his twin suspected anything or not.

The gem glowed a warm yellow as he joined the newly reclaimed portion to it. The rending of the jewel into three pieces had been painful. It didn't surprise him that putting it back together was just as painful. More disconcerting, perhaps, was that it had been born of him to begin with. _Our father's blood flows through both our veins, but more than that, so does his soul. And right now my soul is telling me to stop you! _Ah, but the pain he had expected. Pain was something he always expected, more so, he'd come to anticipate it like an eager child at Christmas.

Finally it was complete-or rather a third more complete than it had been, the crystal crackling together like a breaking ice cube. Flaring from the little amount of blood it so greedily absorbed, the jewel throbbed a hellish yellow red light before returning to it's usual dormant self. _Dante. Vergil. Happy birthday_.

Memories flowed through blue eyes as he leaned back against the wall, spent but cradling the gem that seemed to burn the very flesh of his wrist. More memories, a third of a lifetime of memories, a third of a life time he'd spent the better part of in hell. Hissing, Vergil closed his eyes against the deep blackness. Even as he knew nothing would make it stop.

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hmm...it's kidda different, having the ramble/update space at the bottom... Meh...Enjoy the sporatic updating! (Note the full blown sarcasm) 

Oh yeah, has anyone seen the new trailers for DMC4 :) I can't wait until this game comes out...granted i won't be able to afford it... It looks so shiney though...warm fuzzies...much mayhem...insane fighting combos...and a whole new story plot to ponder. Who could ask for anything more in a game?


	95. Thwarted

Yay! Update!

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**Jotheil**

Flames flowed down the blade's edge, a grim smirk on his lips Jothiel brought the ancient weapon up. Scrollings faired gold in both angel and sword. The Grand Master entered the clearing, white robe sweeping behind him. At his back Metatron and Ariel lurked. He was outnumbered.

"Well this certainly is an Act of Betrayal," Yanos commented, eyeing the relatively empty clearing. "Did I somehow make your role in this unclear?" Slowly the Grand Master intruded, stalking through the rows of pews. "No of course not." Closely following the withered angel a halberd gleamed in the dusk.

"You, of all of you, should know better than to attempt this. God was forced from the world for a reason. It wasn't just the demons either, it was us as well. Or is that fact conveniently forgotten?" Jothiel hissed. "My son is God's just atonement. And you see him as nothing more than an impure human. Be damned your holy hypocrisies ancient."

"Atonement?" Yanos mused, pausing for a moment. "God is the purity of existence. Look at the world before you fallen. You've lived in that filth for so long. Tell me you don't see the depravity. That you are blind to the downward spiral the world flounders in. That you haven't seen sin painted over every faucet of these creatures. They are less human than those of past times: killing their own, destroying innocence with perversions, murdering their offspring before it yet breaths. Tell me you are blind to all of this and you are a fool."

"Be careful what you accuse others of Yanos, lest you commit the same sins."

"I am an angel of God," Yano replied gravely.

"Is that so? I won't let you use my family to further your agenda. This conversation is over. The Act of Betrayal has been thwarted, Lauren still lives and my son retains his humanity."

"Then you know what comes next," Yanos replied, casually taking a seat in a pew. Metatron surged forward, dual bladed halberd at the ready, blood thirsty scrolling alive in his skin.

"You're insane," Josh spit, drawing upon his aura. "I'll see you both dead."

"But first you must save your own life, my son," Yanos replied, bemused. "Let us see if you can manage even that."

**Vergil**

Drawing a deep breath, he finally stood. The amerhurst reacted quietly. Since the joining, he'd spent the better part of the day surfing waves of oblivion. Now he was acutely aware of the small yellow gem and the lapse of time that had transpired. The ally was dark and cold as the snow queen coated the world in whiteness. Sighing he shook the light dusting from his shoulders.

"I would assume for someone such as yourself it must have been very difficult to remain by her side, once you regained Vali's fragment." Vergil found himself once again, turning to the shadows unsurprised, a hand on yamoto. The aura was familiar. Silently Raziel emerged, as much as the snow crunching underfoot would allow him, leading a comatose Lauren. Red scrollings danced through her skin. Her eyes looked dead to the world.

"Release her," he growled. The Accord…those arrogant, arrogant…she was wearing a martyr's robe. Disgusting angel filth. Yanos…that bastard would pay with his life…. "_Now_."

"I know what it is she wears around her throat," Raziel continued coolly, opting to forego introductions. "Just as I know what would have happened had Vali destroyed her-or rather your-fragment."

"Apparently you lack the ability to shut your mouth, Raziel." What was the youngest born doing on this side of the barrier?

"By my understanding, it's nearly indestructible," Raziel mused, white pupil-less eyes flickering, "in this plane anyways. Tell me did my sister give it back when last you spoke with her?" Delicately the wraith played with the flimsy chain, twisting it around one claw, a blunt nail faintly brushing against Lauren's still healing throat.

"Do you desire death?" The warning growl could have crushed stone.

"I'm curious," Raziel continued heedlessly, "as to why you gave it to the one being who will eventually be able to destroy it."

"State your business," Vergil snarled, jaw clenching at the implication of the other's words, "and be done with your idle musings before they lead you to your grave."

"You were supposed to protect her," Raziel replied frankly, flame eyes never blinking. Blue eyes flickered red briefly.

"Who are you to question me? With your infinite wisdom, haunt, I believe you can surmise my reasons for leaving."

"You know as well as I fate drives us to our ends. Just as you know the angels seek to meddle with these strings in unspeakable ways. You were sought out by my sister to finish your father's role in this. Don't fail her again."

"What will you trade Raziel?" Vergil demanded, selectively choosing to ignore Raziel's banter.

"You know my family better than most," Raziel responded. "The Chalice for the Key and Eye. The chalice for _human_. Were I a gamboling man, I would be getting the worse of the deal."

"But you're not," Vergil replied flatly.

"True," the wraith replied. "However disinclined I am to hand Loki over and into your unlikely hands, I must. It is what fate demands of me. You know what I speak of."

"Unfortunately," Vergil raised an eyebrow. "However, understand this changes nothing. Your blood for mine, there is no debt. That taken into consideration, what's to stop me from killing you?"

"The termination of Loki's existence," The wraith replied casually. Yanking back the unresisting woman's head, the wraith's Soul Reaver hovering inches from Lauren's throat. Yamoto flicked out several inches. The Wraith stilled his hand with a quiet chuckle.

"Should it come to that, you would die." The human was becoming a liability, but it was worth the chalice for Lauren. They couldn't perform the Ritual of Ascension without the Eye, and Key. And they certainly couldn't perform it with out an Act of Betrayal and an absent martyr.

"Perhaps," the wraith agreed, "but not before my weapon has sucked away this mortal's soul, rendering her completely useless."

"Mean while the rest of the world falls into chaos with out hope or redemption, efficiently damning us all into a continuous cycle of a hellish nightmare," Vergil finished for him. "Spare me, Raziel." Vergil paused. "They're following you aren't they?"

"If I am to continue existing on this plane, I would need a very convincing reason as to why I handed the key over to an enemy," the wraith replied sighing. "Even now they are sacrificing a false betrayer to an unpure god."

"I could care less about your damn mother or the rest of your sordid family. Lauren for the Chalice, agreed?"

"Agreed," The wraith nodded. Red aura flared to life in Vergil's hands silencing the wraith prematurely. The red ethereal ball expanded, it's unholy light filling the darkened alleyway. When the light thinned and died, Vergil held the Chalice of Shadows.

"For your sake, you'll remain silent about your knowledge," Vergil growled, carelessly tossing the artifact. Cautiously the wraith grasped the old relic between clawed digits.

"Of course demon," Raziel released the human, lowering his luminescent soul bound weapon. Quietly the wraith whispered in the woman's ear. His voice held power. The presence of the Other was subdued, the red scrollings becoming sluggish before disappearing altogether. One handed the wraith pushed the woman forward. Stumbling, she continued in a strait line, losing her balance as she went. Taking a step forward, he smoothly caught Lauren as her knees buckled. "Understand the angels have sent their own scouts to retrieve her." Groaning, Lauren opened her eyes. Life flickered into them.

"Who?" She stared at the wraith incomprehensively over her shoulder, skin pale as the snow surrounding them.

"Get lost little skeleton," Vergil growled, eyes flickering red once again. With a single nod, the wraith began to dissipate, his undead soul traversing the barrier in the same odd manner as he had arrived. Already he could feel the auras of the scouts wheeling above.

"Vergil?" Lauren turned to him now, eyes questioning and confused as she shivered in a flimsy white dress. He never thought he'd see the day Lauren wore a dress. White was the color for sacrifice. Damn. The bastard Yanos. The knowledge that the angel would go against his word infuriated him to no end. For demons it was a right of way. But angels? Damn the amerhurst, he hadn't intended to leave her in the hands of his enemies.

"There's not enough time." Reaching forward he grasped her wrist, pulling her close. Resisting as always, her mouth fell open, as it inevitably did.

"But-"

"I told you not to draw their attention," he cut her off, growling. He sloughed off his jacket. They were coming. He had to get her damn ass out of here. More noticeable was the angel's aura, very powerful, very old. How close had they come to sacrificing her? The process with the amerhurst had cost him time.

"I didn't. I wasn't, but-" He dropped the trench coat over her shaking shoulders. Teeth chattering, Lauren drowned in the layers of fabric hanging off her frame. Still shivering she yanked arms into sleeves. Her fingers and lips were blue from the chill of the winter night he hardly felt at all.

"It doesn't matter." He retorted. "You have it anyways." Carefully he fastened the jacket, not that it did much good. The thing was still falling off her.

"Who's attention? Vergil what's going on? How did I get out here? What-"

"Later." He rose and pulled her forward. "You're going home. Stay there until I come back."

"What?" The closer he pulled her the more she squirmed. If she did that mid-flight... "Vergil what are you-"

"For a single moment in your life human, trust me," he growled. The angle was approaching.

"I _do_, you jerk!" she snapped. Annoyance always was a much more useful emotion. It often alerted one to newly developing situations, or so he had found. He saw as the lights went on, awareness flickering in her eyes. "Wait, Vergil. Oh gezus." She sensed it. Brief panic made the blood drain from her face, eyes widening fractionally. .

He let the fire lick away at his skin, changing it. The transition had been painful at first, when he was younger, though that had died somewhat with training and age. Concentrating, he let the change take over, welcoming the brief pain as always. In a few seconds, spikes drove forth from skin and bones strengthened. More importantly wings came with the transition.

"Oh fuck," Lauren groaned. Hand and arms quickly fastened around his torso, narrowly avoiding the spiked armor like quality his skin had since adapted. Despite the situation, he chuckled. "Dammit, why do you _do_ shit like this!?"

"Little Lauren afraid of heights?" Carefully clawed hands moved to the empty space of her back.

"Bite me," came her growled response. Laughing, he jumped, kicking off the wall before launching them both in the air, powerful wings surging. She stiffened, grip tightening. In the distance he could sense the angel hovering, waiting it seemed. What held it in check? No time ponder the idea now.

"I may just take you up on that Lauren."

"Shut up and get me on the ground." Her face was buried in his chest.

"Be careful what you wish for," Vergil replied quietly. The angel was advancing.


	96. Burning Paradise

update!

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Some where beyond happiness and sadness

I need to calculate what creates my own madness

And I'm addicted to your punishment

And you're the master, and I am waiting for disaster

-Getting Away With Murder, PapaRoach XD

**Jotheil**

Paradise was aflame, the crystal and stone edifices scorched black from the heat. With the thick smoke clearly visible from the red light district on the other side of town, the fire department had already received a surplus of concerned phone calls. Glass shattered, the dim light refracting from it no differently than it did on snowflakes as Jothiel escaped the suffocating dome. Wings churning, he struggled to regain altitude. Metatron was somewhere above him or perhaps he too was struggling in the thick smog that enveloped them. Below the windows of New Light's green house imploded in a rain shower of sharp light, the flames with in roaring to life. Gasping for breath, Jothiel broke through the thick embankment, supplying his lungs the air they so desperately needed.

Reeling he narrowly avoided Metatron's halberd.

Drawing up his sword, Jothiel found himself sizing up Metatron once again. The angel was proving to be a difficult opponent. Blue flickered in Metatron's veins and down his weapon as he drew on his aura. Jotheil felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Shit. Metatron, the lightning elemental, was summoning forth his true potential.

Josh lunged, forcing Metatron to abandon his attack. Summoning forth his own scrollings, he pooled his aura, twisting white blue flames into existence. Swerving, Metatron's wings churned as he sought to avoid Jotheil's attacks. Giving chase Jotheil followed him higher as both climbed towards the silence the stars offered. This time he was prepared when the halberd forked in his direction. Throwing the edge aside, the two continued to parry, dodging in and out of the covering the smog provide, following as it drifted out to sea.

Circling for a second, Jothiel hovered, hesitating for a moment, he closed his eyes. He couldn't feel Metatron's aura. Where? Lightning thundered across the sky. Chocolate eyes snapped open in a startled realization. Metatron glowered down at the fallen, his fist glowing. Behind him hovered two six winged seraphim, their sharp metal limbs shining a ghastly light in Metatron's electric aura. Josh felt his stomach tighten.

_The seraphim! _The faceless anthropomorphic beings that were considered the automated guardians of Heaven, once foot soldiers in the ancient war. They were age old, the dredges of the souls of saints. New human technology had enhanced them into unbridled killing machines. The odds were no longer in his favor, if indeed, they ever had been_. 'Well what did you think?_' A dark voice hissed in the back of his mind, _'Of course they'd sick their toys on you! You **are** part of the Act of Betrayal.'_

Gripping both blade and sword pummel, Jotheil blocked the first few aura attacks, spinning the sword in one hand before lashing out with his own auric attack, flames dancing down the edge once more. Blue electricity collided and danced with fire, creating illuminating spheres akin to miniature bombs. Drawing back, Jothiel dove, avoiding the hooked claws of the charging seraphim. Deadly they may have been, but Yanos had not seen it fit to grace them with an intelligence level above that of a rotting tomato's. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. Wings drawn close, the frothing ocean that raced to meet him. He strove to shake the seraphim from his tail, all the while avoiding Metatron's numerous attacks. Diving still, the seraphim screamed behind him. He waited until the last second before pulling up.

The first seraphim fell into the sea, joining a twisting column of fire, it slowly burned a live while sinking into dark murky depths, wings water logged and useless in the froam. The other seraphim however, drew up. Turning mid flight, Jotheil let lose another auric attack. He couldn't keep this up for ever. Once he finished with the dogs, Metatron was joining them in the ocean. Drawing back his blade once more, Josh was suddenly thrown sideways.

Roaring with pain, listing now, Jotheil barely remained aloft, with only one and a half wings to support him as a new, _third_ seraphim clung to his person. Sharp hooks dug into his skin. Snarling, Josh made to cut the seraphim down. However, short of chopping the seraphim into pieces, it would continue to cling. The seraphim, apparently, had no pain receptors. The second seraphim, catching up easily now as it gain altitude, joined it's brethren, sinking cruel hooks deep into Jotheil's delicate wings. Struggling now, he felt all three of them begin to plummet. At that height they would be unconscious upon hitting the water.

Baring down Metatron sent his lance out, powerful arm throwing the blade expertly. It was a risky move, parting with one's weapon in the middle of a battle. Had it missed, Josh might have been able to salvage the battle. However it didn't. Jotheil couldn't maneuver with the added weights of the seraphim. Pain struck the fallen's side sharply, crushing a lung and several ribs.

Reaching, Metatron grasped the halberd. Snarling, Josh lashed out with his blade. Easily the other caught his arm all the while forcing them downward into the cold brine. Silently Josh's eyes widened, even as he struggled to free his weapon from the opposing angels. Smirking, Metatron drew back his fist, his aura crackling around them.

Lightning flashed across the sky, the thunder resounding in long rumbled peels. Hovering, Metatron eyed the dark waters whence the fallen had plummeted. Again and again lightning stuck the place, frothing the chilly winter waters. After a while it was difficult to tell were the blood began and the whitecaps ended. The seraphim, expendable from the start, slowly began to sink beneath the surface. For a long while Metatron watched the churning water. None surfaced. Reeling, staff in hand, Metatron headed back to the city.

**Rayne and Lucia**

"Arius's lab," Lucia commented, taking in the rusting place. Several cracked human sized tubes dominated the center of the disarrayed room. It looked like a scene from a cheap sci-fi flick.

"So I see," Rayne commented. "Hmm…split up and search. Don't destroy anything."

"What are we looking for?" Thug # 1, as Lucia had begun to refer to him, asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," Rayne smiled sweetly over her shoulder to him.

"You heard the Lady," Thug #1 spit out to the rest of the idiots. Grumbling the small group of men piled into the lab. Rayne made to follow them through the narrow hole in the wall they'd blown open.

"What are we really looking for Rayne?" Lucia asked warily.

"It's a seeeecrit, sweetblood," Rayne smiled impishly, eyes laughing, "If I told you what it was now, how fun would it be when we finally found it?"

**Raziel **

"What are you doing?" Crimson lips smiled delicately as red curls cascaded down creamy ivory shoulders.

"Releasing her."

"B-but why?" Raziel demanded, appalled. He glanced over to the still, frail form of Vali. Wrapped in white gauzy sheets, The Queen of Hell hardly resembled her namesake. "You know she's still ill. When Loki threw her into the abyss-"

"Was it not I who first began the art of soul crafting?" she interrupted him. "Was it not I who salvaged her after their sisterly quarreling?"

"But you've said it yourself! Mother please, you can't do this. Not to Loki or Vali."

"Are you questioning me?" Deep violet eyes glanced over to the angel. "Son of mine, whom I saved from the depths of insanity?"

"Mother," Raziel began.

"In all honesty, you've failed me Raziel. I'm tired of waiting for you and that fool Yanos to act. I must speak with Loki. Your sister will bring Loki to me."

"But why?" Raziel asked helplessly. "You said I could speak with her, Mother."

"And so you will son," the woman soothed him. "In time."

"You're going to hurt her. Please I haven't spoken with Loki yet. Can't you wait? Just a little longer?"

"No," the woman replied firmly. Her eyes danced as she eyed the still form before her before returning to the healed wraith. She considered him a moment, her eyes softening somewhat. "You'll have your chance Raziel." Returning her attention to the slumbering figure before them, the sly smile returned. "Vali, listen carefully, send your sister to me. Rid the world of that fool Yanos, he's floundering in delusions best ended. You may do as you will, but remember what I have told you. Send Loki to me." The sly smile widened, dancing on her lips. "Don't fail me daughter of mine."

**Rayne and Lucia**

"What the hell was that," Lucia hissed, barely keeping her balance as the earth quaked under her feet. Something was coming. Again the ground shook. Reeling, Lucia leaned forward to maintain her balance. "What did you do!?"

"This is it!" Rayne replied, eyes lighting up.

"What!?" Lucia demanded. She shuddered, gagging. "What is that smell?"

"The Hellsmith sweetblood," Rayne replied, eyes glowing red in her excitement. "The bastard's finally heeded my summoning!"

"Are you sick in the head?" Lucia demanded appalled. Sure the island's soil was some what tainted from Arius's attempt to breach the underworld, but to use the fact to her advantage! "Do you know what that demon is capable of? What it demands in return for favors?" In the distance, Lucia's question was answered by the screaming of Rayne's hired thugs. Rayne smirked coolly as Lucia shook her head, sickened. "I knew you were going to kill them, but _that_? Don't you care about anything?" Rayne raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side.

"I care about what I want. Any more stupid questions?" Rayne asked.

"I can't believe you invited that demon to my island." Lucia growled.

"The island you left," Rayne replied casually. Turning she picked her way out of the lab, following the sounds of horrified screaming and gunshots. At the makeshift doorway she paused, glancing over her shoulder, "Don't turn chickenshit on me now." Sighing Lucia followed her.

The flooring of the entry way had sunken under the influence of the great demon as he gorged himself on human flesh. Lucia shuddered, holding back a gag as she and Rayne approached the demon.

"Well, well what do we have here?" Rayne commented as the Hellsmith tore open the throat of the last survivor. Deep laughter rumbled through out the room.

"Women," The hellsmith grinned, exposing crooked yellow teeth. One clawed hand came up to wipe away the blood and grizzle that coated it's mouth. Stealthily, Lucia's hand began to inch towards her daggers despite her rolling stomach. That thing made a wrong move, it was dead. "Do you know how long itssss been ssssincccce I've had woman flessssshhh?"

"Well aren't you a peach," Rayne purred. "What do you know about soul crafting?"

"What do you know of sssuffering?" The Hellsmith croaked.

"You've had your share of flesh," Rayne responded coolly, flicking both blades out. "And I am the one who summoned you. Now tell me what I desire to know." For a long moment the Hellsmith's yellow eyes regarded the Dhampire. It's glance made Lucia's stomach churn.

"I wasss a fool to agree to sssuch termsss," it wheezed, staring down at the corpse it clutched before returning it's gaze to the women. "Sssoulcrafting isss the ancccient art known only to thossse of god'sss family."

"And what of constructed souls?" the dhampire asked in a steady voice. At that the demon leered.

"And what would a dhampire care to know that for?"

"Answer me," Rayne growled lowly.

"You sssmell of fear and excccitement," the hellsmith croak, laughing. "You're of Kagan'sss brood, aren't you?" Rayne's eyes widened fractionally as her they turned a deep red color.

"The bastard's dead," Rayen hissed. "Care to join him?"

"Poor little vampire human," the demon laughed. "Look to your ally for the answersss you ssseek." Yellow gloating eyes turned to the dagger wielding demonness. "Chi hasss ssseen her fair ssshare of sssoulcrafting asss well. There were only three failuresss before the key wasss born dhampire, and I only sssee two of them before me." With that the demon began to sink into the ground, taking the corpse with it. It's demonic aura scorched the floor black, leaving behind nothing but a few half devoured corpses.

"Three failures?" Rayne pondered.

" 'Three failures?' " Lucia echoed. Turning the empress took in the demonness. "Three failed soul constructions?" Rayen sized up her chances. Already Lucia held her throwing daggers in each hand, a harsh realization dawning in her eyes, the implications of that realization igniting the demoness's anger. "I was raised by humans, dhampire. Living through Aruis was a nightmare. You dragged me here, for what? To dig up secrets that were best left buried? To tell me that the man who destroyed my way life was nothing more than a _pawn_? Nothing more than a prequel?" Lucia's aura began to swell.

"Living in ignorance is a pathetic excuse for your injured pride to rear it's ugly head now," Rayne commented. "You know only a portion of the story."

"You bitch," Lucia screamed, her demonic form coming forth. "This is my life!"

"Well that's more like it," Rayne smirked, drawing up her short swords. "Come on little birdy. Let's play."


	97. Seraphim

**Trish**

Strange voices echoed through the darkened hallways. A deep voice, one she didn't want to remember, one she had obeyed with out question, a voice of a monster. In her dreams Trish stirred, infantile in the world it seemed. The voices were saying something…speaking of someone. Quietly she stalked down the hallway, cat foot in the shadows she went, though for all of that they heard her coming. Long blond hair rustled gently in the wind, as she toddled onward. A hand carelessly trailing along the shaded marble walls as she continued onward, the demons and haunts of the place leaving her well enough alone. A light, the only light with in the lonely keep hovered at the hallway's end. The sounds, the voices, became clearer as she went.

"Spawned of his memories…..Lord Mundus…..the art is more difficult than I guessed…….the construct is a failure…Loki…soul fragments …of course I can do more…will take time…" A woman's lecherous voice.

"Vali…" the deep rumbling of her master. She would know that voice anywhere. "Take him….break him……Sparda's blood…..They will both be mine…" Silently, a pallid hand reached forward, pushing against worn wood, finger tips tracing the rough exterior of it. Pain now, a voice screaming. Was that her voice? No it couldn't be. "Little toy, would you plot against your creator?" The deep haunting voice rumbled like thunder. "Would you ever disobey me?" The angel filled her vision, the pain maddening, his stone eyes glared into her soul. Behind the angel, a bloody scene, blue red blood seemingly painted everywhere. Ghost hands grasped her shoulders. "You belong to _me_." The screams rang clear and harsh in her ears.

"Trish! Wake the fuck up!" Blinking, Trish stared into Dante's eyes. He released her then, letting the woman fall back onto the bed. "Christ woman," Dante groaned, leaning back against the headboard, "What the hell was that about?" Trish realized she was panting, her heart pounding in her ears. Not only that, she was slick with sweat, it coated her pillow and the tangled sheets she lay on.

"Wha?" Trish bolted up, mind swimming in confusion between the here and now, and then and there of her memories. Looking around she saw it was the same small room with the same cracked ceiling and the same comfortable bed. Her eyes found Dante. The self-same half-demon stared at her with the same mildly bored look he wore whenever caught off guard. "Dante?" she asked still confused, swallowing painfully. Her mouth was dry as cotton.

"Don't remember? Well, to start, you clawed me pretty good," Dante replied flatly. Taking a closer look, she realized the larger part of his arm was indeed still healing. Even the dim bedside light revealed the dark splotches of the half-devil's blood soaked the bed sheets. "You finished by screaming for hell." A smirk curled his lips as cautious blue eyes continued to study her. "Usually you only do that when-" Trish leaned forward, cutting the demon hunter off mid sentence as she placed her mouth over his. When she pulled away, bottom lip still trembling slightly though she smiled, he chuckled his eyes soft. It had been a long time since she'd last had one of _those_ dreams.

"You should have nightmares more often." Smirking he pulled her close. Burying her head in the crook of his neck, Trish sighed, grateful for her slowing heartbeat. Grateful for the warm arms enclosing her, pulling her down into the mattress with him as soiled sheets were kicked off the bed, dismissed until morning. Hands sliding around his waist, she was grateful to find sleep again that night. The bedside lamp clicked off as Trish closed her eyes.

**Vergil**

She was clinging to him, almost uncomfortably, after nearly falling once during the battle. Her grip was tight enough to suffocate. Turning sharply, he dove, wings streamline, daring their pursuers to follow. If it was possible, Lauren's grip tightened even more. Damn seraphim. He should have known a weasel like the Grand Master wouldn't fight his own battles. This was face of his enemy? _Pathetic_. The remaining Seraphim, three out of the original ten, hesitated for a moment calculating their odds of survival. He had to give them credit, they were the smartest of the bunch. Battling them mid flight in numbers had been difficult enough with Lauren in tow.

This was coming to an end. Now. Pulling up he landed on the rooftop, releasing Lauren and reigning in the demon somewhat. He wouldn't need the full change to take care the rest of the ingrates, just his wings. Gasping, Lauren nearly fell from the sudden stop, her grip faltering. By reflex he kept her standing while searching the skies for the hovering foot soldiers. He spotted them, less than half a mile away. They'd be there in less than a minute.

"Can you fight?"

"Ah-what?" Lauren asked dazed, eyes flickering to the night sky as she shivered.

"_Can you fight_?" He growled, spitting out the words as he spared her a glance. Groaning she pushed away, studying the approaching threats.

"I heard you the first time. If you can cut their wings off, I'll do my best."

"Your best may not be good enough."

"Gimme a break Vergil, I ain't a noob," she growled, voice still somewhat rusty. As always her indignation brought a slight smirk to his lips. "Besides," she glanced over to him, "you're not going anywhere, right?"

"If you're unable to defeat it, fend it off until I finish the other two." He crouched for a moment, drawing Yamoto. "Kill it if possible."

"Phsss," Lauren took up a defensive stance, cracking her neck, "Just don't be late if my ass needs bailing out." Screaming the seraphim approached.

"I'd expect better than that from you by now."

"What are you? My mom?"

"Quite being difficult." With that he took off, meeting the two seraphim mid-flight. The first one to meet his blade fell, wingless and flightless, though it had managed to graze his side with one of it's nasty hooks. For that insult, he flipped, the seraphim seemingly unmoving with out it's wings, and brought the heel of his boot down heavily into the seraphim's 'face', propelling it towards the earth for Lauren to deal with.

Turning he parried against the next faceless seraphim's claws, the third one riding close at his back. Reaching forward, he spun, twisting the second seraphim around as he drew yamoto across it's neck, cutting to the bone. The seraphim's screams were cut off short as it's head fell to earth. Letting go he kicked the limp body towards the third seraphim.

Hooks flashing, it tore the body of it's brethren apart, splattering the dark blood like substance in a gory haze. He raised an eyebrow. Bloodthirsty little beast. Screaming the Seraphim charged, more skilled than it's brethren. Falling backwards, Vergil avoided the initial attack, sending the seraphim reeling as he placed a well aimed kick into it's solar plexus. Tumbling, the seraphim was quick to regain it's equilibrium. Turning, screaming, it brandished hooked claws. Vergil brought up yamoto. Once again the seraphim lunged.

**Lauren**

For a moment I thought Vergil killed the damn thing, it hit the roof hard with a sick wet sound. One of those sick wet sounds that made the contorted backwards facing head make sense. What are these things? Demons? It didn't feel like a demon did. No hairs raising on the back of my neck. No tar smell. In fact, it had that same closterphobic feeling New Light it had. …It was a holy thing? Whatever it was, it was one of the ugliest black sheep I've ever seen. Shivering, I inched towards the still humanoid. Dark foul smelling liquid oozed out of it's back where Vergil had clipped it's wings. Gagging down a retch I backed off. The tar like gunk pooling around it's body smells like the bottom side of the hellsmith.

A strangled snarl rose from the humanoid as it twitched. What the hell?? Metal hooks scrapped across the ground, digging mini trenches, as it lurched to it's feet. No way in hell that thing should still be living. Falling back into a defensive stance, I watched as the humanoid raised both clawed hands and slowly, with aplenty of cracking, snapping, and twisting of it's neck, it actually turned it's face a complete 180 degrees. And when I got a good look at it's mug, I gagged for real this time.

It didn't have a face! No eyes, no mouth, no hair, nothing, just vague valleys and lumps that suggested a human appearance. What the hell is this thing? Why is it attacking us? And Vergil wants me to fight it, with nothing more to go on than the fact that breaking it's neck won't do a damn thing? Goddamit _why_? Why anything? Who's sadistic idea was this? I don't get anything that's going on!

Screaming a high pitched howl, the thing lunged. It moved fast, almost as fast as Vergil could move. Dodging to the side, I avoided it's head on rush. Spinning, I performed a thrust kick, catching the thing in the side. My boot sunk in, making a nice thwock sound…and it kept sinking. The dark gunk spilled out over my boot, hitting the snowy roof with a hissing sound. The smell of burning leather rose from my boot. Acid? Goddammit!

"Fugly little bastard," I hissed, "Get the hell off my boots." Using my leg as a base, I jumped, twisting mid flight to bring my other heel careening into the thing's face. It's neck made another grizzly snapping 180 degree sound to accompany the sick glugging sound my boot made as I tore it free. Reaching for the humanoid's hand, I twisted yanking the rising monstrosity over my shoulder, throwing it into the far ledge. Hissing the thing rose, lunging, as if my attack didn't even phase it. Shit. No time to-

"Sonofa bitch!" I yelped. The acidic gunk was eating through Vergil's jacket as it tackled me head on, throwing us both to the ground. Get this freaking acid bag off of me! I lashed out with a right hook. Scrabbling humanoid reached, expertly catching my fist with clawed hands, it's sharpened digits cutting everything. It's neck began to make the snap, crackle, pop sound again the humanoid began to right it's self. Crap. Reeling I tried for a hit with my left fist, but by then I was pinned. Now what?

The humanoid never saw my foot coming as I arched and buckled under it's weight. The smell alone was going to make me pass out if acid burns from the humanoid's blood didn't. The humanoid caught it in the chest. Screaming a few choice obscenities, I booted the thing off. Damn, that hurts. Good thing I'm wearing Vergil's jacket…I'd probably be dead otherwise. Reeling, I got to my feet.

The thing regarded me, dragging it's claws on across the ground, it's head still facing the other direction. I could feel blood leaking down the inside of the jacket sleeves, the upper forearm fabric hung in shreds while the acid burnt part smoked in the cool winter air. Hmm…we're really close to the edge…if I can push it over…or better yet, bend it's spine all to hell in the process… I swear that thing just smirking at me.

Lunging again the humanoid drove, pushing towards the edge of the building, following it's advance as I ducked and dodged. It's claws narrowly missed my side as I dodged another attack. Just a little closer…a little more…I'll be satisfied with getting this thing away from me and ten stories down.

Screaming it charged. I waited until I could see the bumpy exterior of the back of it's head clearly before dropping to the ground. Leaning forward, it's claws just barely grazed the tip of my nose as my foot kept the beastie at bay. Using it's momentum, I let the humanoid sail by over head. It's neck bent at a ninety degree angle as it hit the brick sill of the roof. Scrambling I got to my feet, but it wasn't moving.

I stared at it. Nasty gunk pooled around it's neck, and the thing didn't get up again. Didn't twitch. Heal from that you nasty fucker. And while you're at it, kiss my ass. It was dead…after it's neck was bent all to hell, not just broken, but broken in two distinctly different ways. I want a cigarette. What the hell _is_ it? Looking upwards, I could see Vergil hacking at the final humanoid. Figures. I shuffled backwards a couple paces to keep the growing puddle of acid blood from lapping by boots. At least this thing is dead…or deadish anyways.

Who sent these things? How did I get out here it the first place? What was that zombie thing, the one from my dream, doing here? Was he for real? What were he and Vergil talking about? I still don't know what the hell is going tonight possibly get any more screwed up?

"Lauren!" Reeling I turned at Vergil's voice. It was another humanoid, heading right for me. Ah shit.

**Vergil**

Steel ground against steel as the seraphim lunged again. He parried every blow, effortlessly dodged every attack, and by the time it seemed the battle was coming to a close the seraphim had been listing, weakened. He stared at the angel's lap dog, no doubt, some how, some way, the angels knew he had defeated their toys. It would only be a matter of time before new ones were deployed.

Hovering for a moment the two regarded each other, beaten seraphim and victor devil. Screaming the Seraphim dove. _Running away? _Damn. The seraphim's orders had never been to retrieve the key, nor had it been, however unlikely, to stop him. Yanos sought to complete the Act of Betrayal from a distance, using his bloody seraphim. Looking down he saw that Lauren had efficiently dealt with her own seraphim, as he had expected she would. She was unaware however, of the one currently dive bombing her. Cursing, he followed the seraphim.

"Lauren!" Turning, she spun towards the sound of his voice, eyes widening at the sight of the second seraphim. She froze, unmoving, eyes watching in mild surprise as the seraphim descended. Of all the damn stupid things… Growling he twisted the very air around himself, aura expanding only enough to encompass him and his sword to fully utilize the teleporting technique.

Reaching, his hand slammed down on her arm, yanking her backwards. He'd beaten the seraphim by mere seconds. Pain lanced through his shoulder, even as he drew yamoto skywards, replica aura blades plunging into the focal point of his attack. Drawing the blade sideways, he felt his aura leaping down yamoto's edge, burning a path where the seraphim had been nearly a millisecond before. The path of scorched foul smelling chemicals extended well past the edge of the roof. It was over. The ingrate had managed to hook him deep, the acid burning the wound, but the seraphim was all but obliterated. Jaw clenched against the pain, ignoring it, he turned to her. Blinking she stared up at him from her sprawled up position. Her mouth fell open.

"Get up," he growled. Doubtlessly, more were coming. Time was wasting. She stared up at him from her sprawled out position.

"Ow…just everything…ow." Acid coated the remains of his jacket and she was bleeding again, but she was alive. She'd had the sense to protect her still healing throat. He'd deal with Lauren's injuries later, hopefully a star could be scrounged up.

"More are on the way. I don't believe I need to point out the obvious." Blinking she didn't move.

"Um…your shoulder's bleeding."

"Later," he cut her off, extending a hand. "We have to leave. Now." Taking his hand, she finally rose to her feet, her breath frosting in the air as she shivered.

"Are you sure you're-"

"Yes." Hissing, he transformed letting the demon out once again, drawing her close. Not even the change was healing the wound. The hook and it's acid would have to be removed. Damn it to hell and back, but the only place close enough was Lauren's home. Even if the Order was still watching it, he'd prefer deluded humans to these pain in the ass drones. The angels wouldn't be able to act with out Lauren. Unless the little scion of balance, god's little soul fragment reincarnated, was killed prematurely-which was unlikely-there was nothing at all the angels could do. Nothing until the Act of Betrayal was completed… …. … by any hand of those on the playing board that knew of Lauren's true nature. Perhaps he shouldn't have discounted the Order so soon. It was a convenient little cult Yanos had at his disposal. Alyssa, at least, already lay in pieces.

"Um…Vergil? Where are we going?" Lauren asked quietly, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Home," he replied warily. "Your home. Hold on." Nodding, she held on. Sighing, he took off. Already he could sense more seraphim, a long ways off but approaching all the same. Thank hell the angel's didn't know the location of Lauren's home.

* * *

Okay Author note/ramble section time! yay me! Anyways...I have to say the seraphim are one of the more fascinating baddies. (Well I like'em anyways.) Nearly limitless in numbers, they can litterally be produced in a factory. Acid blood and cartilage like bones, a mind frame created speciffically for battle and following orders. Kinda like a living robot. Meh...enough about that. Enjoy Turkey Day People! That being said, next update may be a while, or not. Expect sporadic. Eat turkey!! (or the tofu equivilant) XD 


	98. Just Like Me

**Rayne and Lucia**

The daggers flew from Lucia's finger tips, missing the dhampire by fractions of an inch, carving hairline cuts into her skin. Dropping down, short sword forking into the beaten ground, Rayne lashed out, her spiked stilettos catching Lucia in the jaw as she spun. Landing on her feet, the dhampire yanked the short sword free, lunging with chain whip cracking at her heels. The linked iron and barbed hook dug mini craters into the earth where the demonness had once been. Too late the dhampire felt the sharp point kissing her throat. Driving forward, Lucia didn't stop until the blade's tip had pushed out the other side of the dhampire's laughing throat.

"What did he mean, 'three failures'?" Lucia repeated lowly, her words were edged with dark snarls. Blood leaked through Rayne's lips as she smirked.

"Not a daddy's girl are you sweet blood?" the empress asked. Lucia's eyes widened in surprise as the chain snapped. The force threw her into a far wall, right next one of the half eaten thugs Rayne had hired. Reaching, pallid gloved fingers wrapped around the dagger's hilt, pulling until the dagger was free. Kneeling and attempting to catch her breath, Rayne rubbed her blood between her fingers studying it. Already more was cascaded from the wound, creating a small puddle around her person. She returned her attention to the demoness. "In fact, I'd go as far as to say, you never had a biological mother either."

"Shut your filthy mouth," Lucia snarled, staggering to her feet. The long ragged cuts the whip had left were slowly healing. Still growling, Lucia tore off the destroyed sleeves from her denim jacket. The dual short swords slid free from their sheaths with practiced ease.

"Neither was I," Rayne commented, voice husky as she crouched.

"I have a mother," Lucia growled, the tips of her hair became a blue-ish white hue, fanning out, raising to reveal several feathers at the nape of her neck. "And that was enough for me dhampire, until that slimy excuse of a _man_ came along." Her nails began to lengthen.

"Then you're lucky," Rayne replied calmly, still crouching. Blood leaked through the fingers at her throat yet. "My father, Vampire Lord Kagaan, murdered my mother, strangled her, then murdered her entire family, every distant relation. Not only that, but he drove her insane after raping her, using her as a blood donor. He murdered any one who I could possibly call family, simply so he would be the only one I could turn to. Believe me, I know what it feels like to be manufactured by a bastard with a brutal front door policy." Rayne smirked, the tips of her fangs slightly digging into her bottom lip. "Kagaan wanted an army of mindless dhampire off-spring to help him rule the world."

"What?" Startled, the milky white devil trigger hue left the demonness's eyes. The crackling aura that had been building up, dissipated. "_You_?" The dhampire had been a product as well?

"Yes, you and I both, sweet blood, we were manufactured. By our collective bastard fathers for the same specific purpose, if the rumors about you add up." The feathers slowly fell to the ground, devil trigger forgotten.

"Manufactured?" Lucia glared at the dhampire, fists on her hips, clenching the hilts of the short swords. "Rumors?" Growling, Lucia's shoulders slumped. "You take the fun out of carving up your blood sucking butt, vampire."

"_Dhampire_," Rayne hissed, annoyed. "You heard the hellsmith. We're both failed experiments."

"Experiments for _what_?" Lucia demanded. At that Rayne gave a sad smirk.

"If I knew that much I wouldn't be looking for answers still. Now would I?" She shot back shaking her head. Slumping to the ground, she stretched her legs out, still eyeing her counterpart. "However, it explains a lot."

"That demon didn't explain squat," Lucia retorted, still annoyed. Slowly short swords lowered, hands dropping to her sides.

"Three failed experiments," Rayen repeated. "We look alike, sweet blood. I think it's safe to assume I'm the older of us. I was born in the 1930's."

"Oh wonderful," Lucia snorted, stomping a foot. It was an involuntary reaction. She always thought best when she was moving, standing still now was killing her. "Not only are you taking the word of a demon, you're basing this theory of yours on rumors." Green eyes flashed in the dim light of the broken building. "I didn't look anything like my sisters."

"Niether did I," Rayne commented softly. "We're both something along the lines of 'one of a kind'. There's something else as well."

"Yes?" Lucia sighed, sinking to a knee to stare the dhampire in the eye. After a moment short swords were sheathed. A hand went to the pouch at her pocket. Pulling out a star she tossed it to the empress. "I know I'm going to regret this." There had been something…in Aruis's notes. An extensive project...it had gone into some length about her own creation, but the files had been encrypted. Or so she had found out when the computer began to dump the data. Where they related? Aruis and this, at best, promiscuous dhampire?

"Your blood," Rayne replied slyly, smirking slightly, studying the star. "It was in your blood. How do you use one of these things?" Rolling her eyes, Lucia stood.

"You only think about one thing, blood sucker."

"Your blood tasted the same as Star's did. As mine does. It's so fragmented and light, it's almost unnoticeable, but all the same there's an element in it. Something that can't be identified, it's almost bittersweet. I never thought you'd taste like that. I had a feeling the human would though. She's an odd one. She had it stronger than you did though."

"An element in her blood? What exactly is all this suppose to mean?" Lucia asked, coming forward to take the green star from the dhampire.

"Whatever you make of it," Rayne replied. "I'm not quite sure. There's another out there as well. The third before her. If she's the right thing, then the two of us and that one other are all failed experiments."

"I'm not fooled, Rayne," Lucia commented. "You know more than that. Why would Vergil's human be the success?"

"Maybe she is," Rayne shrugged, "Maybe not. I never said she was the success out of the four of us, I simply said an element of her blood tasted as ours does."

"I'm going to take the star back."

"I'm going to take out a blood donation if you do, sugar." Rayne smiled sweetly, her eyes taking on the red gleam of blood lust for a moment. Growling, Lucia activated the star, taking a seat beside the dhampire. "We discovered Kagaan kept a nice amount of records. Sevrin was the one who shifted through all the information. He stumbled upon an archetype. The blue prints to some very heavy magic working. Necromancy, mostly, but strangely enough, it was mixed in with a high level white magic spell. We still haven't deciphered all of it. It's been nearly a year since we unearthed it. The primary element seems to be a key of some sort. A living breathing key to open a door, or so that's what we've deciphered from Kagaan's notes. Ironically enough, the Order was performing the Ritual of Ascension on Star at Silent Hill."

"The Ritual of Ascension?" Lucia asked sharply. "That was-" Lucia's mouth shut with an audible snap. Rayen turned, taking in the demonness. A sly light danced in her eyes.

"You did your homework. Where exactly are Arius's notes stored?" Rayne's voice was sweet enough to sugar curdled milk.

"And here I thought I was just here for your entertainment." Lucia replied, standing. At that Rayne laughed. It was the sly, baiting laughter she usually used. It was a full deep hardy sound that filled the empty space surrounding them despite the healing throat. Rising, Rayne collected her whip, the metal whistled in the air as it came back to her.

"That too."

"I'm not giving you anything," Lucia replied flatly. Chuckling Rayne turned to her, smirking.

"Why not? Don't you want to know? Don't you want to do something simply to spite their memory? In the honor of the hell they delivered up, why give some of it back? Those things, they called themselves 'fathers'. Why not destroy the memories of them?" Lucia crossed her arms. She was quiet for a moment.

"If you're done defiling my home with your schemes, perhaps we could leave now?"

"At least think about it," Rayne retorted. "Sevrin could use the help translating the Ritual into something recognizable. Considering what Vergil is doing, I would think that would be a cautious move." Lucia snorted.

"The sun will be rising soon. You'll get your chance at Aruis's work after we get back to Matier's." Without looking back, Lucia left the crumbling entry way, her boots crunching in the rubble.

"Such a friendly little girl," Rayne purred, following her with a shrug.

**New Light**

"Milord, it is done."

"I see. Ariel?"

"Yes Milord?"

"Go to his woman. Inform her of the circumstance. If she shows signs of injuring the vessel, take the child from her."

"Milord, is it wise to take the slumbering dragon from it's chosen comfort? What would happen should the vessel call to Gabriel. Satan wouldn't stand for it, lord."

"I am aware of this Metatron," Yanos replied impatiently. "Very well, go with Ariel. Harm not the mother, in this we will honor Jothiel's wishes."

"You are most honorable milord," Ariel murmured. "What of the woman's power?"

"Her use is limited now. Both Jothiel and the woman failed to complete the Act of Betrayal. I believe the woman should be informed of her precarious position. The child is of age. He may be separated from his mother and cared for by his kin. Now go."

"Yes milord," Ariel curtsied. Turning, Metatron silently followed her.

* * *

Whoa...slow update...I know...I was just creamed with tests after Thanksgiving break. So...not a big update...but plot nessicary and all that jazz. Enjoy! 


	99. The Bone Rules

**Trish**

Blinking she stared at the familiar dark shadows of the room. This was starting to get ridiculous. Beneath her cheek, Dante sighed, his chest heaving in the comfortable rhythm of sleep that usually lulled her into oblivion as well. And it had…but now…again…twice in one night…all those dreams. Nightmares. Memories, half forgotten, welling up again. Mentally groaning, Trish shifted slightly, resting her chin on the back of her hand, watching Dante sleep.

There were times when she had to wonder if her moral compass was somehow off kilter. The nightmares somehow always reminded her of the time she'd first laid eyes on the half demon…which was shortly before she'd thrown a motorcycle at him. By all means, she wasn't complaining. Here with Dante was right where she wanted to be…but at first…it hadn't always been like this.

_'You look like my mother.'_ The slight intake of breath she'd heard when the shades were removed. It made sense. For the first few months, it seemed as if her presence was a non-importance at DNC. Even with the shop's new name, her mirror image printed on the worn paper, framed by small wooden pieces had put things into perspective fast. _'You may look like her, but you will never have her flame.'_ He'd said it himself, so why had he been so surprised at the self fulfilling prophesy? She hadn't quite understood it herself, at first. The way he'd acted when she'd finally returned after leaving for a week or two, exploring the city. Or when she'd fried the circuit breaker-by accident-during a spat. He never had seen the right hook coming.

Had it been that much of a shock at first? Seeing the memory of his mother, in flesh, walking where she chose. She didn't have any previous experience to compare the feeling to. Had it really been so surprising? The difference in character. Trish doing as she pleased. Housework? Only because it was something she'd never done before. After the first time, its novelty wore off and she'd settled for mastering the numerous weapons Dante kept around. He'd put his foot down, however, when she'd broken all ten fingers of the first weasel informant who'd made the mistake of calling her 'Dante's Hoe'. She liked dressing the way she did, and she'd be damned if a slimy bottom feeder would take the place of 'master'-besides herself-anytime soon. The worm's words had hurt though-at the time- it had been more than her budding pride and self respect could stand. But she had learned…there were other ways to get even. Ways that didn't involving Dante paying for an overcharged hospital bill before nearly killing the man himself when he was pressed with blackmail.

That taken into consideration, she was still right where she wanted to be. And that was with Dante, she was starting to think it would always be. With the amazing memories they'd formed together she honestly couldn't see herself anywhere else. It was a new beginning to her story, but with every new beginning, and ending had to transpire. Dante still didn't know everything of the past story. For his part, he never asked, and for her part, she didn't share. He had to know that she had been born of Vergil's memories of their mother. Had to have realized it. But it was a don't ask, don't tell policy, neither tested by silent consensus. Not that there was much to tell. She didn't remember much.

She'd been born of Vergil's memories…but only as a tool. She knew that much. A tool, nothing more, nothing less, and still less than a demon. In that respect, she'd shared the same status as Vergil (Nero?) had. A demon, but not a real one, not a pure blooded one. Not a demon who had seen time flow by like a river of sand, each year nothing more than a granule of dirt.

Vergil. He too had stared at her with shock, dismay, anger when he'd first laid eyes on her. Even as warped and as twisted as Mundus and his cohort Vali had made him. He had still been human enough to hate her creation, but cold enough by then not to care. Or rather, smart enough to shown only his indifference. Really the distinction between the Vergil here and now, and the Nero she had known two years ago…was it the human? Hardly, she was cute but she wasn't a miracle worker.

Sighing, Trish laid her head down, listening to Dante's heartbeat. '_She's a failure…learned the art too late…Loki's fragment… already been born…just a matter of finding it…there are ways Lord Mundus…around the accord...Loki always did prize her self born paradox…' _Voices she couldn't rid herself of. It was a small grace, she'd never attracted the vile demonness's attention. A part of Trish still wondered if that had been Vergil's doing. Every other went to Vali save for herself, willingly or not. Most came away broken or worse. It was the way the demon higher ups exerted their power-their dominance-over others.

Shaking her head, Trish firmly pushed the memories away. No need to think about it. She was safe from that. _Dante_ had saved her. And that's why she was happy here. No need to think about it anymore. Just lay in his arms and breath deeply. Remember everything he'd given her since then. Breath deeply, breath deeply, breath deeply. Remember all the good memories, rain, snow, motorcycles, the ocean, nightclubs, pancakes and coffee. Breath, Breath, breath…

**Lucia & Rayne**

"Sevrin, I'm getting the link up."

"Good. I'm sending what we have now. It's just a back up copy so it won't have everything, but I've included the more important details we've uncovered about the ritual."

"Excellent. If we find anything, I'll patch it through to you." Rayne turned to Lucia, the glow of the laptop casting a swallow light on her already pale skin. "Shall we luv?" Sighing, Lucia turned to the paper strewn table. All of Arius's notes in hard copy. They took up a majority of the space in the small rustic dinning room. Matier was out, placing flowers over the graves of so many loved ones who had perished in Aruis's attempted rise to power. For the time being, the small room was theirs to do with as they wished.

"So far I've been able to piece together a few aspects of the ritual, but it's still not enough. We know the ritual deals with a splinter of something brought to the human realm through liberal use of necromancy and white magic," Lucia began.

"The art magickal is necessary to avoid the curse of the splinter's rebirth, aka the Accord. After by passing the Accord, this splinter goes on to great good or evil, yadda yadda yadda," Rayne continued for her. "Has free choice to serve heaven or hell, yadda, yadda yadda. Here's something, it's not just a matter of blood, apparently this splinter is part of a greater whole?"

"A what?" Lucia asked flatly, looking over to the dhampire hovering over the computer.

"All it says is 'universal entity' that Aruis was somehow able to map into the genetic blueprint. I think your splinter is the same as the archetype I mentioned before. Apparently, a rare form of genetic engineering was utilized to accomplish this, encoding a particular desired trait into the fundamental building blocks of DNA took a lengthy repetitive process," Rayne replied thoughtfully. "Aka, our collective siblings. They were all variations of this blue print Aruis and Kagaan had mapped out. Incorrect variations. So back to what we know, a splinter of the universal entity comes here via the Ritual of Ascension-which activates the genetic blueprint archetype Aruis and Kagaan developed in very specific way-and it does whatever."

"Does whatever?" Lucia asked skeptically, taking a seat at the small kitchen table. She reached for a half empty glass of water, weighting a pile of copies to the table top. "That doesn't sound very scientific."

"We're still translating and decoding Kagaan's notes. The vampire tongue is demonically based, I wouldn't dream of asking my Sevrin to overwork himself." Rayne purred. Lucia rolled her eyes, setting down the water again.

"Get on with it. What else have you pieced together?"

"Combined with what we've gathered by comparing Aruis and Kagaan's notes, we know that by some third party, Aruis and Kagaan were both indirectly 'commissioned' into researching this ritual."

"A third party who not only provided a majority of the notes on the complex magic formulas but also carefully designed hints within the notes pertaining to the exact execution of the ritual, essentially directing research itself. Apparently the Accord is a type of restriction or seal, meant to prevent this splinter or entity from entering the human realm. The Ritual was developed to by pass this restriction. With it all laid bare, its obvious the third party had something to gain by hiring those two to figure it out.

'Kagaan and Arius had to have realized what their commissioners wanted. And that didn't seem to deter either of them," Lucia commented dryly. "I smell a god complex." She leaned back in her chair, considering. "Most private organizations wouldn't even dream of dabbling in illegal stem cell research. Aruis not only perfected the procedure, he managed to do it with demon genetics. Not an easy feat considering huge differences between human and demon genetics."

"He had help," Rayne pointed out. "Kagaan was also contacted by this mystery third party of ours. I wouldn't be surprised if both Kagaan and Aruis ended up working on this together. There's no names, numbers, or number, but his notes match Aruis's, detail for detail."

"Then the question is: who's our mystery party? The Order maybe? You said Star had it too. It would explain why Raymund was working with them."

"Nah," Rayne dismissed the notion. "They're religion freaks, all they had to supply was raw materials. Children to experiment on probably, and definitely the know how to attempt the ritual of ascension. The Order never would have been involved if they had known what they were doing. They must have been misled into believing this entity had something to do with their religion. I got the feeling it was Raymund working with the Order after both had been contacted through our third party, rather than actually believing in the religion itself."

"How exactly does that work out?"

"Star was kidnapped by the Order earlier this year. It would have given them a perfect opportunity to attempt the Ritual, to by pass the Accord. I got the impression she'd been at that place before. Assuming Star was a battery test for this, she would have been the second experiment after me."

"I guess we can assume she's the non-failure then," Lucia sighed. "Vergil wouldn't be keeping her under lock and key if she was."

"That depends," Rayne replied, leaving her laptop for a chair at the small dinner table as well. "There is a chance we're not really failures, as far as what this third party may be concerned, but rather we're failures because of what we chose to become. There's still a lot we don't know."

"Small price to pay," Lucia replied, cradling her head on her arms as she leaned over the table top, surveying the paper trail they'd had to shift through for the last few hours simply to reach where they stood.

"Ain't that the truth," Rayne agreed.

**Lauren-Dreaming**

_Sister?_

Wha? Sister? You again? What's going on? Raziel right? What are you….never mind, forget that. How did you-  
_Shhh. We have little time. Listen to his words. I traveled far in your realm to find him. I tell you this now, so that later, you may seek him out should you require aid. I feel you should know it is also most abnormal for humans to direct their dreaming and relive their memories whilst sleeping. _The wraith sighed, shaking his head. _We must be quick, sister, I must ask you to use this talent in favor of a different cause, Yanos is very close to unleashing something best left sleeping. God is dead for a reason, but he will not listen. I know you will though. So listen to one I've brought to you, perhaps when the time is right, I may help you, the way you helped me._

But-

_**Listen to what I have to say human, even in death I have little patience for those who waste my time. I've left my wife unattended deep in the lands of death to speak with you tonight.** _

And so I shut up and listened. This person was different. It was an old voice belonging to a nightmarish vision of a demon. Not the petty demons the Order sent, a real demon. Wings of a dragon or a bug-I couldn't really decide-spikes, horns, a large red pendent hung around it's neck on a heavy thick chain, and in a fisted hand, he held one hell of blade Dante would've been jealous of. Red burning eyes regarded me through the dream-like haze, but the blue electric aura was odds with the feeling of immense power that seemed to emanate from him. I say at odds because he seemed so…tranquil? Calm? At peace with himself? Who describes a demon as 'tranquil'? Who is this demon? Why did he seem so familiar? Like he reminded me of someone I knew? Since when am I familiar with demons-save when I'm hanging around Vergil, Trish, Dante, and Lucia? What-

_**We walked the earth as gods, before man ever knew the truth behind the existence of God. For all your knowledge, humans still do no know the truth behind their gods. **_

The reverberating sounds of his voice stilled my question. He had a voice that didn't allow for questions, it was one of those voices that said 'shut up' with a simple directness so few possessed. Simply put, he was as blunt as few half-demons I could mention.

_**And the humans worshipped us. I walked the earth as a god. I spilt blood in the name of a fallen angel who deemed to over come a god wrought with illness. It wasn't new for heaven to dispel it's cast offs to our depths, but to cast off one so clearly unworthy of our darkness...It was disgraceful. **_

_**The angels- as beings of light-held their tenacious position in Gabriel's court as only prideful arrogance could, and the fey, the beings of the elements, weak with their flitting emotion, we, we were the darkness of creation. And we gloried in our powers, in our secrets, which are so much more difficult to perceive because of our pervasive night. We were gods once, before the arrogance of the mightiest brought about all our down fall.**_

_**Gabriel. It is a cursed name. The same name that belonged to the one we called Lucifer. I say this in your modern tongue, but can you grasp, little human, the true significance of the might this one demonstrated? He was, because of his might, the ruler. He was, because of his folly, the last to fall at the end of the celestial wars. Gabriel. I fought along side the angel death, I and many others, to end his reign. Surely the world has since little known the harmony that encompassed us all during that black time. **_

_**It was after that battle, when the blood of Gabriel and Lucifer's family drenched the earth in final retribution, that I understood the pettiness of their greed. The angels, the fey, my kin, the humans worshipped us all as equals. Worshipped us all as gods. But that was far from the truth. There were those among us that sought more, their greed was boundless…**_

A presence was there, hovering just out of sense. Some one was there, watching me. The demon's voice faded away, forgotten. Someone's there. Who's watching me?

* * *

ZOMG! Chappter 99!! woohooo!! Happy dance!! Ehem. Anyways, is it just me, or did anyone else get the 'basement geek' vibe from Aruis? (Not that it's my intention to insult the basement geek nation with the crappiest villain DMC ever spat up.) Well that, and when I next update won't be for a while. But never fear, I'll have a present for you all when I get back to updating regularly. That being said, merry x-mas, happy new year (or whatever your equivalent is). And Enjoy! 

Oh, and just to clarify, there's two people speaking to Lauren, hence the bold and the non-bold italics.


	100. Partners I Offer

CHAPTER 100 SPECIAL!! XD YAY!! I've been wanting to post this forever-seeing as it's been roughly half a year since I had an update consisting of not just one, but _multiple_ chapters. (Four new ones to be exact!) Much gratitude to everyone who's been reading the story and showing their support. Now let's kick this off with a bang! Enjoy!

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**Lauren**

The blade flicked open, jumping into my palm and sliding out from beneath the pillow. Eyes wide, I drew a ragged slash in the air…and hit nothing. Blinking, I focused a little. Vergil stared down at me, arms crossed. What? Oh right…we kicked the acid monster into it's grave, afterwards Vergil dropped me off at home before scouting out Order members. I remember taking a shower and apparently passed out on the couch after that. I can't believe I missed sleeping on something made before the Stone Age. Well, home is home, no matter how dusty it gets. …Or how much once edible food has rotted out the insides of the fridge.

"I suppose I should be grateful that you're taking survival seriously," he commented wryly.

"Vergil," I coughed, flicking the blade closed and sitting up. What a weird dream. Why am I dreaming about a zombie and a demon? And why the hell does Raziel the Zombie man keep calling me sister? Who is he? How did he know Vergil? I'll figure it out later. "Did you find anything?" I asked, drawing a hand through my still damp hair. More to the point, did he find any Order members? By all rights there should have been two or three lookouts still lingering about.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, a hand going to his pocket. 'It doesn't matter'? That's Vergil speak for 'yes'. Guess I can assume they won't be able to walk again. A green star falls into my lap. "Use it."

"Oh, um…thanks." An unexpected bonus, nice. I kick my feet over the edge of the couch, taking the star. The funny thing about pain-or any condition for that matter-is that you never really know how much it affects you until it's gone. I can't believe I got used to my throat being torn up. The numb sweetness of the star fills everything. I can breath with out taking short artificial breaths finally. I've got to find out where he gets these things. That and now that I can breath, I want a… "Hey!" I shot to my feet, watching the precious, delicate, wondrous, small white cardboard box Vergil held in his palm. Oh no…not again…please no… Face impassive, Vergil let it drop to the ground and brought his huge stupid foot down on the carton. With a twist, they were gone, completely obliterated into tiny unrecognizable bits and pieces. My cigs… "Vergil _goddamit_!" Gah!

"You don't need them," He cut me off, flatly.

"Says who?" I demand, staring at the brown and white crumbled pile beneath his foot. I was already going through withdraw, and apparently there wasn't much a green star could do for that. I was still feeling it. "Those were _mine_! I don't trash your stuff."

"Poor little Lauren," he replied dryly, "Slave to your own vices." Like he's one to talk! I _need_ a cigarette! _Now!!_

"Why don't you-" I glanced up, and felt my mouth drop open. Holy crap, I totally forgot. His shoulder. His shirt was drenched in blue red stains and a very distinct glint of metal danced with in the fabric of his shirt. Oh c'mon Vergil. _Gross_. That screamed infection. …Assuming something like an infection could infiltrate his system.

"Are you dense?" I asked, leaving off one question in favor for another. Unstable yes, sword mad, yes, dense…sometimes I wonder. Most people would have gotten rid of the hook before finding more things to kill. Vergil raised an eyebrow and uncrossed his arms, staring at me with the 'stupid human' expression. Maybe he really did forget. "You still got the hook in your shoulder," I pointed out flatly. The expression didn't change. I snorted, rolling my eyes. Nope, he was just ignoring it. Figures. "Get rid of the shirt and take a seat. And don't bleed all over my stuff."

Geez, I know he doesn't care about pain, but he could at least pretend to. It would have been nice to know I was going to be drenched in his blood before I took the shower. By the time I returned with some rags and a bowl of warm water, he'd made himself at home, sitting at the foot of my bed, pondering the shirt in his hands, or whatever it is he does when he stares at inanimate objects. If he got any blood on my sheets, I'm kicking him.

"Usually when I say take a seat, I mean sit on a surface I can clean," I grumble. Vergil glanced over to me.

"Since when do you make the habit of cleaning?" I give him the finger as I soaked the rag in the bowel.

"Remember that when I'm pulling this thing out of you, Lancelot." Carefully, I began to clean the area around the wound. With my luck the hook probably had flesh eating germs on it. Speaking of which…those things-the acid monsters-they had that feel New Light did…and before that…the zombie both then and in my dream…my scrollings turned red in the green house. That weird demon thing. They were all puzzle pieces but what did any of if have to do with Vergil and his artifacts? He said 'don't draw their attention'. Back to square one: What does Vergil know and how do I get that info out of him? Here I go…

"You said I attracted 'their' attention?" Vergil drew a breath and sighed.

"Angels." Angels and demons…Someone phone Dan Brown. His copyright's being infringed.

"You're saying those nasty little things were angels?" I retorted flatly. I must've missed the halos. Those things….they _felt_ like the air in New Light. They had that weird stifling feeling. Unlike a demon's aura that reaches out to you, those things had an aura that seemed to repress whatever it touched. What does that mean? What was Tiffany _doing_ at New Light around those things?

"A lower class of angel," Vergil replied. "They were seraphim, foot soldiers."

"Seraphim?" I asked, ringing out the rag. The water in the bowel looked like a dark and milky syrup. "Angel foot soldiers?"

"You're already aware of demon foot soldiers, why would angels be any different?"

"And where's the similarity? Like you ever had a halo," I said sarcastically. Angels just tried to kill us. See this is reason I don't go to mass. Well one of the reasons, in any case.

"I'm not an angle and I'm certainly not a foot soldier," Vergil replied flatly. Oh gee, did I push a button there Verg?

"Trust me, no one confuses on the issue. Some how I don't imagine you were a big church goer." Vergil remained silent, not bothering to answer the obvious unless it was voiced. "And we know the seraphim are angel sent foot soldiers because?" The wound was clean enough. I leaned forward to check the back of his shoulder. At least the hook hadn't gone all the way through.

"New Light is the base of the angelic court, or what remains of it." Angels, in the city, and they have their very own court. There goes the neighborhood. Why couldn't it have been a cigarette tree instead?

"Peachy," I commented, sighing. Now for the gross part. "Wound's clean. I'm taking the hook out." The metal was cold to the touch and it wasn't worth the amount of blood I got sprayed with when the hook finally came out. The wound went as deep as the bone. I could literally see torn tendons and bone fragments somewhere among all the blood stitching back together again. Holding back a gag I reached for the rag, stemming the blood flow until his shoulder had a chance to heal over some. And of course, half demon General Vergil never gave a hint that it hurt. Not once. Sometimes I could hit him just for the satisfaction of it.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"Hm?" he glanced over to me, like he really had no idea what I was talking about.

"It cut to the bone," I clarified. "Most people would have passed out from the pain already.

"Pain is pain," Vergil replied coolly. "Only the weak give in to it." Yeah whatever. Pain is pain but you don't see me stapling my hand into a coffee table for that reason. Or walking around with a hook embedded in my shoulder for the better part of three hours. I snorted.

"Says the demon to the girl. Back to the angels," I rinsed out the rag. "Why are they 'interested'? It wouldn't happen to do anything with those artifacts you were collecting would it?" Which it did.

"You're smarter than that," Vergil commented. I smirked. It's nice not to be underestimated.

"That's not an answer."

"They want to worship at the feet of god," Vergil replied softly, taking up the hook and studying it. Angels that wanted to worship ? Cute. Real cute. I socked him in the arm.

"Geewhiz, _really_?" I asked sarcastically. They're angels, like no duh, of course they're god freaks. "Can you even tell the difference between your own bullshit and reality anymore?" He raised an eyebrow, the smirk returned. Damn him. He's impossible.

So…angels want a god…Vergil had three artifacts…I was Vergil's partner…but that seems way too simplistic as far as rituals went, and I've seen my share of rituals…What am I missing? There's my scrollings, and I'm pretty sure Vergil's never given a damn about the Order before, so they're somehow connected. Sighing, I eyed up Vergil's wound. The gash the hook had left behind was almost gone. It was taking it's time about it. Some of the seraphim's acid must have gotten into the wound. I wiped the rag over the back of his healing shoulder a final time, taking care of some blood splatter before moving onto the front.

"Do you realize how priceless you are?" He asked quietly. His voice was a soft hush in the room. Hearing it so close to my ear made me jump. Priceless? To him? Ha. Priceless to who else is a better question.

"You only find me priceless when I pissed," I retorted flatly. He gets too much of a kick out of it not to. The wound was completely healed. Even his skin color was clearing up. What I wouldn't give to heal like that. "You make a point of commenting on human weakness every chance you get," I added, tossing aside a role of gauze, "Don't tell me you've never made a point of jerking humans around."

I picked up the rag, rinsing it out. Nothing but blood smears to take care of now. Goodie. "Hold still," I ordered him. He raised an eyebrow as I slowly eased myself on his legs. "I ain't sitting in your lap and I sure as hell ain't climbing around my bed soaked with your blood," I snapped. I was covered in demon blood again. I think I've lost count of how many outfits he owes me. "Feel free to stand up at any time." He allowed me to kneel on his legs without further comment for the next few minutes. Yuk it up demon boy, just wait till I get my hands on a pack of cigs.

"Believe me, your irritation isn't that priceless," he replied, quietly bemused, yet considering as well. What the hell did he have to consider? "You as a whole however-" I slapped impromptu gauze on over the nearly healed wound. Anything to make him shut up. He was going to start a fight if he didn't knock it off. And as usual, Mr. Personality gave little if any indication that he felt it, even though I knew for a fact it stung. "Are you finished yet?" he asked.

"Would you like me to put the hook back in?" I asked sweetly.

"I'd be interested in seeing you try," he commented. Goddammit, he's still laughing. At me. So not in the mood for that inferior human _bullshit_ right now. Especially since I just patched him up. All this angel and demon shit is _his_ fault in the first place.

"Bite me," I growled. He shifted slightly. In one second I went from nurse doctoring up pain in the ass's shoulder to lap straddling paid entertainment. I'll. Kill. Him. Slowly. _Very_ slowly.

"Give me a reason," he hissed softly, his mouth a phantasmal ghost against the tender inside of my throat, "not to." …What the hell?

The world was spinning out of control, moving to fast for me to see it before it came to a sudden stop in soft silk lined edges. Blinking I stared up at Vergil. I was on my back? _How?_ I didn't even _sense_ that. Crap. He raised an eyebrow, staring down at me, a slight unreadable smirk on his lips. His hands were planted on either side of my head, pinning my wrists.

"Well?" He waited expectantly. I glared at him. He's not winning himself any brownie points. The intimidation thing was scary the first time, not the twenty something times that followed it. The point demon-boy wanted to get across tonight? The same-old, same-old, he was demon, therefore superior, I was human, therefore weaker and easier to kill. Utter bullshit. All of it.

"I'm your partner," I snarled lowly. "And if you don't want me knifing you every chance I get in the near future, you'll get the fuck off." It wouldn't hurt him, but I'm pretty sure it would annoy him.

"And what would you possibly hope to accomplish with that?" Vergil demanded. The site of you bleeding is starting to give me mental smirk of satisfaction, _partner_. "That aside, you never answered my other question."

"The answer is no, I don't perform sexual favors when administering first aid." _So get the hell off!_ Bet he's getting a kick out of this. He tries anything else, or-god forbid-something worse….though what that is I'm not sure….granted I could make a few stabs at it... Vergil chuckled.

"Really?" Crap. He leaned close, until his cheek slid across mine. Not comfortable, not comfortable, not comfortable. Was he _nuzzling_ me? WTF? "You made the offer," he commented softly into my ear.

A second later, pain shot through my shoulder. Fuck! I grit my teeth together to keep from yelping.

He bit me! Seriously bit me!! What did he want? A flesh donation? The initial pain faded, but his mouth there, still working. I growled, feeling his smirk against my skin. He was sitting there, laughing, as he _gnawed_ at my throat. _Gah_!!! I'll nail him in the face with a shoe!

His mouth moved upwards languidly, even as I realized how useless it was to struggle. Not that the revelation stopped me. He was _playing_ with me, like I was entertainment. I'm not _anyone's_ fucking **_toy_**! I flinched, turning my face away as he neared, growling. Carelessly teeth delicately raked my earlobe. His breath was a gentle breeze, stirring through my damp hair. It was hard to stop the shudder that trickled down my spine. No! I don't care! He's a fucking-! Again, that slight movement, this time at the shell of my ear, playing with the piercings there, moving them slightly. My shoulder twitched. My fists clenched. Once more, better than the last, more drawn out now. The nerve endings there sighing contently against the warm dampness of his mouth. I grit my jaws shut so hard it hurt. Heartbeat roaring in my ears, it's so loud.

"Fuck you!" I snapped. Vergil pulled back, smirking. I glare at him. I will kill him. I will hit him. I'll break down into feminine hysterics if that'll get the job done. Hell I'll pull out the period card. Just get him off, get him away, and make him stop.

"Do you know why the Angels find you so endearing, little Lauren?" Vergil asked seriously.

"I don't care! Get off!"

"You should," he replied. "Imagine, a little human the angels want so badly." He smirked. "Think. What makes you so special?"

"The hell I am," I growled. Was it whatever the Order did? They gave me the scrollings and a tattoo. He said it was a seal against evil. Then again considering the source…

"That's right," he agreed, pressing his forehead to mine. I could feel his breath, warm on my skin, almost as if he wanted to breathe for me, his nose sliding next to mine. Blue flames watched me intently. "You're just another worthless human the angels were willing to use. Willing to sacrifice for their cause, just like the Order, just like the fey." They were going to sacrifice me? …Tiffany was there…she wouldn't…she would _never_…not in a million years…she hated the Order too much to do something like that…so then…why did the scrolls?

"Poor little human," Vergil commented, pulling back, his eyes dancing as he read mine. There was something else. He knew something. "It was the angels that orchestrated your visit to Silent Hill, them who manipulated the Order and dhampire Raymund into acting, them who endowed you with the third artifact."

The third artifact? I was…I had…it? He said the heart was the last one…I thought we were collecting them out of order or something. That cat woman…Nallius, that wasn't just a pretty gem. Even then my scrollings had…and he had _known_ all along? If he knew all that, then…he left me at that place…on purpose? And Tiffany…she was going to let them…but she wouldn't! She's my sister! She wouldn't do that! "They would have cut your fragile human body," Vergil continued carelessly, "Drank your blood with the chalice, and rejoiced in the birth of their new god. Perhaps you've heard of the Ritual of Ascension?" I glowered at him, growling still. How dare he … I get it…not all of it, but some of it…I'm going to punch him. Repeatedly.

"You can take that inferior human bullshit," I snarled, "and shove it up your ass. You left me at New Light as bait!"

"Yes," he agreed with a smirk. "But that wasn't the only reason you stayed there. I train at killing, not healing. I don't have the skills needed to remove Vali's wires with out killing you. All in all, the angels served their purpose in keeping you safe from the demons and the fey mistress you're so fond of." Of course he didn't know…Linda was trapped in Obrion's courts…that didn't level out what he did though. Didn't level it out by a long shot.

"You conniving bastard! You had no right to use me like that!"

"Perhaps," he shrugged. "Answer my question."

"_What_ question?"

"Do you realize how priceless you are?" Vergil repeated, releasing my wrists. Unfortunately he was smart enough to continue pinning my legs. "They can't control you little human. Not in the way they want to." Vergil breath was soft on my throat as he hovered near. His proximity made it impossible to land a hit that would do any damage. "You felt it in the air, that holy aura, it nearly drove you insane didn't it? You blacked out at times, felt as if something inside was stirring, even though they claimed it was natural. Claimed you blacked out from your injuries. There was something you couldn't put a name to. You felt as if you couldn't take another breath in that building with out unleashing something horrific. You couldn't even control your scrolling half the time could you? I'm right, aren't I?" How did he?? What else did he know? Why do I trust someone who won't even tell me this kind of shit??

"So what?" I snarked.

"Don't act stupid Lauren, it degrades your intelligence. They want you to be their puppet and you know it. You knew it the moment I told you of the angels. You haven't stopped thinking about it since you killed the seraphim." He was right. As usual. But that still left a couple of question marks on the playing field.

"And what about you Lancelot?" I snarled. "I'll be damned if I'm your plaything." Vergil chuckled.

"I never said you were."

"You never said I wasn't." At that, his stupid smirk returned. I'm using a high heel to nail him in the face.

"And what enjoyment would I get out of controlling something like you?" … … …Say what? "I find it much more entertaining to take you up on careless offers." ….Oh crap…


	101. Unthreading

**Tiffany**

"Oh god," her voice was weak as she sank to her knees. Their dark silhouettes splayed against the soft blue of the nursery wall via the door way. She had been trying to put the child to sleep, but the sentiment was all but forgotten now. As if sensing his mother's dismay, the child began to fuss, making small little gasps of discontentment. A moment before he had been nearly asleep. "How could that…happen? How could you _let_ that happen?" She demanded, her voice dangerously nearing hysterical. "They told me he was injured in the fire! What are you saying? How could he have been thrown to the sea!?"

"What happened was dreadful. We will all grieve for the loss of Josh," Ariel responded.

"You'll grieve?" Tiffany demanded, holding baby Gabe to her breast. "My child is fatherless. My husband-Josh-is dead! How could this happen? What did you do!?"

"Continue to on in this manner and you will be deemed as unfit to raise your child," Ariel commented, unperturbed.

"You horrible," Tiffany gasped, tears coursing down her cheeks as she clutched the child close. Stifling a sob, she rocked her crying child. "You monsters."

"_Monsters_? Jothiel was the monster," Ariel replied, sneering slightly. "He fell from grace protecting you useless humans. He died to protect something that was even less than human. He betrayed his own flesh and blood. Jotheil was the monster, not us."

"No not monsters," Tiffany gasped, huddling over her child, "something worse. Monsters have pity, and you don't even have that. You're dead, inside and out." Flames flickered to life, dancing in a circle around mother and child.

"You ungrateful," Ariel started lowly, approaching the woman and child. The scrollings were vivid in her skin. Her advancement was held in check by a twisting column of flames, flickering into existence a mere three inches from her nose.

"Enough," Metatron's voice fell like gravel. Surprised, Ariel turned to face him, shocked that he'd lay a hand on her. The column of flames died away. "Enough Ariel," Metatron repeated. "You've antagonized her enough."

"Lord Yanos said-"

"Lord yanos says many things." Metatron interrupted. "You've rattled the woman, it would be best for both her and the child if you were to leave." Ariel narrowed her eyes, taking in the older angel.

"Our Lord will hear of this. You speak betrayal Metatron."

"It is my intention that he does," Metatron replied flatly. "You're a fool to follow the words of another with so little to go on."

"_What_?" Ariel's eyes widened in surprise, her hands hanging slack at her sides. Metatron entered the room, placing himself between the child and Ariel.

"If Yanos told you to jump off a bridge, would you?" Metatron asked flatly, turning to the human and her child. "Leave. You've created enough of a mess here." Snarling, Ariel left, wordlessly fuming. Her cheeks pink as her heels clicked madly down the quiet halls of New Light.

"You'll have to excuse her, she's young. The scriptures of honoring one's foes… were…_altered_…over time."

"And means _what_ to _me_?" Tiffany demanded. "How is _that_ helping _me_? How does that help my husband? How could this happen?"

"It helps you, because unlike Ariel, I remember what it is to help others. I also know that our current leader would drive us all to a very unwise place. And I a most loyal pet, will follow in his wake. I swore my oaths of kin when they meant something. I would like to believe they mean something still." Matatron paused for a moment, kneeling besides the woman. "What did Josh tell you of your child?" She stared at him, eyes dancing in water.

"Everything." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Save for what you were going to do to Lor." Of course the woman had figured it out. Humans were often a great deal more intelligent then Yanos made them out to be.

"I see," Matatron nodded, rising. "Then I have little to say. I will find a messenger for you. One you may trust. Choose whom you wish to contact, be careful in your word chose. I haven't any idea if the message could or would be intercepted. Though I may not allow you to safely leave, I may assist you in asking others for help. I trust there is someone you may turn to?" Silently the woman nodded. "Good. I leave you now."

"Why are you doing this?" The angel paused at the doorway.

"Because Jothiel asked me to care for you in his absence," Metatron replied. "And because it is a poor thing to murder one's own cousin."

"You don't even look alike," Tiffany whispered quietly, shoulders slumping.

"One could say that of you and your sister," Metatron commented. "All angels are bound, after a fashion to each other. 'Cousin' is a loose term, but Jotheil was kin none the less. When we were both sworn into our house, grown in our power, we swore an oath to protect our family, our kin. You are such kinswoman, and I will not have it disputed that I didn't honor my kin."

"You _murdered_ him," the sob was barely held in check. The realization draining the blood from her face.

"Yes," Metatron admitted solomly.

"But…_why_?" Metatron turned to the woman.

"I did what I had to survive. We all do. I understand how little this consoles you, however, if I may, your feelings are not my immediate concern. Had Yanos so desired it, I would have murder you as well. Your child is more important than you could ever imagine."

"Fucking monsters, all of you."

"It seems you're more related to your sister than I had thought," Metatron mused. "Understand this, if nothing else, familial loyalty is quality held in the highest respect by members of this house. Jothiel chose you over his kin. Consider what he chose to sacrifice himself over before you throw about your insults." Speechless she stared at him. Wordlessly, the angel left.

**Tweak and Sarah-Several Hours Latter…**

The kid was asleep, hopefully she'd be able to sleep through the night this time. Sighing Tweak eased into the nearby chair watching the small human sleep. He'd already received his fair share of summons from Obrion's Court. He'd received even more summons from other fey courts, Obrion's rivals, Obrion's allies. Kingship wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Half his court was either dead or recovering from the Demon Queen's attack. That included the few humans that refused to leave the court when offered freedom. Most of them had fey lovers Linda had taken with her to Obrion's court. Other's that had stayed had children of half fey descent, there was no where else such children would be accepted. Finding a new location for his budding court was proving difficult. Finding members for it however, was on the rise. Word was spreading about the mixed blood fey court. Other half human fey were contacting him. At this rate, he'd have an army at his beck and call. Now if he could find a place to house them all….

A soft knock at the door drew the fey from his thoughts. Sighing, Tweak rose, hand going to the enchanted butterfly blade tucked in his belt. The handles of the blade were worn, the wood shone from so much use, though the blade itself was iron. Small use against an angel, but something was better than nothing. Going to the door Tweak pulled on descent glamour, disguising his fey heritage. He hadn't expected one of the higher ranking angels to be his caller.

"Can I help you?" Tweak asked, studying the angel.

"There's someone who would have you deliver a message," the angel replied gravely.

"I'm not messenger." He began to shut the door. The angle forced it open with a flat palm. Easily the butterfly knife came into hand, blade swinging forward with a quick slight of hand. Unfazed the Angel spoke.

"As a king of a newly formed court, I believe you're in need of allies, fey."

"What of it?" Tweak demanded.

"Should I help you escape, word has it a certain dhampire empress would be welcoming. She's a strong ally to have with many connections."  
"And in exchange for becoming a dhampire's blood donor, you want me to play messenger boy," Tweak drawled, clearly unimpressed. He'd anticipated the angles' hospitality would wear thin soon.

"Yes," the angel held out a small paper envelop, "I believe you are acquainted with Lauren Star?" Tweak eyed the paper. What the hell was this about?

"What about her?"

"She's to be the recipient of this message. Understand what is being offered here. A war is coming. You need a shelter for your people, and this is not a place for them."

"So I'm beginning to see," the fey slowly took the envelop, considering. "And what, pray tell would the future payment for this be?"

"There will be no blackmail," Metatron replied. "I don't believe enough angels will be left to force your hand before long."

"Pardon?" Tweak demanded, surprised.

"Good night fey," the angel inclined his head, "I trust you'll leave at first light." Tweak watched the angel stalk down the empty hall. Scratching his head, he closed the door, returning to the room.

"Are we going to go find the Captain?" Sarah's voice nearly made him drop the letter.

"You're supposed to be asleep," Tweak replied annoyed, carefully tucking the envelop in his back pocket.

"Is that letter for her? Who's it from?" Sarah leaned forward, sitting up, her brown hair at odds with itself. Carelessly, she raked a hand through it. "Can I go with you to deliver it?"

"Yes, I don't know who it's from, and if you don't go to sleep, you're not coming with," Tweak replied flatly. Sarah made a face.

"You sound like Aaron."

"Good," the fey replied. The fey did not forget the promises they made, and he was certainly not one to let down a friend. "Go back to bed. I have some work to do. When I come back you better be drooling and snoring like you usually do."

"I do not!" Sarah replied, indignant. "That's so gross."

"Yeah, you do," Tweak retorted as he went into the adjoining room. "Go to sleep." Sevrin. That was the man's name, the empress's closest advisor. Sighing Tweak forced himself to pick up the telephone's receiver. So much for freedom outside of Linda's court. No doubt the dhampire's would demand blood payment. It wasn't something he was looking forward to in particular, his last encounter with the woman was still fresh in his memory, but he had to do what was necessary. If the yoke fit, he'd bare this until another leader was found for the Halfling fey court. If this place wouldn't be safe for much longer than he had to get his people out of here, but no one ever said he had to like it. Hell. He should just take the whole damn court to Canada. At least Sarah would've found a home.


	102. Partners II Coin

Satan, you know where I lie,

Gently I go into that good night

All our lives get complicated,

Search for pleasures overrated

Never armed our souls,

for what the future would hold

We were innocent, Innocent

Angels, lend me your might,

Forfeit all my lives to get just one right

All those colors long since faded,

all our smiles are confiscated

Never were we told,

what the future would hold,

when we were innocent

-Fuel, Innocent

**Vergil**

Her scent was thick. The taste of it lingered with each breath. The odor of cigarettes and angels was washed from her skin, and she smelled so damn _alive_. It was a livingness that made the stagnant, monotonous existence in hell so much more of an unbearable idea. Her lips tasted better than he would have guess, her mouth was sweet and lush. Her hair was soft tendrils of darkness, threading through his fingers as he pulled hard to reveal the new, tender flesh of her throat. The throat that he wanted to-he'd take more than that-however she was needed for another cause…but there was time now…

Strong, but petite, nails clawed at his back, digging into the flesh, dragging across his skin as he bit down tenderly. No doubt her nails were leaving red trails in their wake. Ah but she was strong willed. He knew that. So why was she making this so damn _easy_? Why was she making it so…_enjoyable_…

Her mouth opened further beneath his, tongue pushing back. Her hands were in his hair, pulling lightly, at the base of his neck. Arms wrapping about him, pulling him closer, even as his hand slid the fabric of her shirt up, and she still wasn't fighting. Not like she should have been. Not like she had been. She was warm. She was human. He wasn't this…_arrogant_. Not as he used to be anyways. Nor did he think himself capable of sinking any further. Any fragmented shards of his pride would have protested against this…of what was possible because of this. If her skin wasn't so damn soft. If she didn't breath and sigh like she was happy. Humans, by nature, couldn't be happy, couldn't be content. But neither were demons.

Most succubi were mocking, degrading, harsh, and cruelly violent lovers at best. Almost all demons were. Where, in comparison, she was simply a willful, soft human. Succubi were whores through and through and proud of their feats. She hadn't wanted this and yet... The culture of the succubus and incubus vastly differed in human notions of love, the only thing both had in common was the lust. Lust was a succubus's drug, need their nourishment. The more they could dominate their victim with lust the better chances they had of consuming their prey whole. He'd been with his share of succubi, and they were unpleasant. They served the need but only just. The older ones were down right deranged and perverse in their degenerative ways.

Most humans avoided demons, hence the reason most humans were raped by them. Contrary to popular belief, young female virgins weren't that much of a prize. Demons took everything, males, females, bisexual, transsexual, virgin, promiscuous, pure and disease ridden. However, to be of both species, sex often took the same course as it did with demons, the want to dominate and tear was almost as great of a factor as the lust itself. Far be it for a demon to _love_.

Her skin was smooth, flawless underhand as pointed claw tips grazed the valleys and arcs of her back. When he pushed her down into the mattress, her skin rubbing against his, the urge to take was more overwhelming than he anticipated it would have been. Humans were terrified of demons, and demons laughed at humans, relishing the complete mastery of their weaker prey's fear. Savoring the futile struggle against a being so much more powerful than their self, demons enjoyed the heightened sense of power through the struggle and consequent death of their prey. Humans were easy to kill, easier to dominate in their struggle. But for all of that, demons could never understand why something so weak would make them so much more powerful in comparison. Few demons understood they cherished the strength humans unwittingly displayed in their feeble struggle. Demons never understood this was a common link, perhaps the missing evolutionary link between humans and demons, this need to dominate a weaker counterpart. And for all the enduring lust demons possessed for this trait of 'strength', humans were physically weak, and consequently died.

But she….as much as he mocked her….she had never been weak. Human like, yes, and there for physically weak-he'd be the first to say she needed to be protected-but she'd never been truly weak. Among all the humans he'd encountered, she was one of the particularly stronger ones. Strong as some human men in some instances. She had trained under both Dante and himself in some respects.

More over her complete lack of fear had been utterly intriguing at first. Had he confronted a demon of their whereabouts, he would have had all the information he desired and then some. They wouldn't have asked him, 'decaf?' and treated him as if he were another asshole customer. Nor would they have openly mocked him, unless General of equal or higher status, without a shred of fear. There had never been a flicker of dread as she approached the wind swept building that had once been her prison, following a half demon whom she'd just met. Not that she had a choice, but she would have fought him. He knew this now. She would have fallen fighting, had she known the Hellsmith had been waiting. Even fallen she would have refused him an honorable victory, would have kicked, hit, spit, bit, screamed, anything to resist simply giving in. Anything to tarnish an easy kill. As she was doing now. Now he wondered if that was because she was stubborn or of the two of them, if she was really the more intelligent one. Perhaps it was because she was simply more accepting than most. Humans should avoid demons and with good reason. She-clearly-was not. It was a wonder he had been born at all. Was this what his mother had been like, upon meeting his father?

She shuddered beneath him, as semi-clawed fingers delicately raked her side, feeling the heave of her ribcage, never tearing the fragile skin the way he wanted to. Releasing her mouth, he kissed her throat once more, softly now. He could feel her pulse racing beneath the warm fleshy membrane, feel it thundering against his mouth. He could hear her soft, sharp intake of breath as he teased the delicate skin at the round of her shoulder before moving back to her neck. Feel the soft exhale against his neck, her bottom lip brushing his shoulder, trembling slightly though she purred like a cat with warm milk. She was scared, as much as she strove to hide it. And she had reason to be, not that she'd ever know the truth of the matter until it was too late. …And she'd be too weak to fight back, too weak by far. It was tempting to see the limits to which he could push her.

The one time he'd counted on her damned near predictable stubbornness... soft lips hesitantly kissed his earlobe now, hands and arms clasping about him, the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed, pressing against his, almost as if she wanted….and the smell of her…. No. No more. None of it. He'd consume her whole had he the chance-which he couldn't -she was important. He knew this. Lauren was important to _her_, and _she_ would not approve of her fragment being treated in such a way. The damn witch. Her fragment may have been deranged, but _she_ wasn't. _She_ had been clear as to what he was to do. '_Guard my fragment, bring her to me as necessary by your hands or those of others, and all will be returned to you demonling. Of course, it's not as simple as that. I've quite a laundry list for you, son of Sparda. For that you may thank your father. A blood pact is, after all, payable by all those who are kin to that whom made the pact.'_ After this, it would be the last time he was anyone's damn servant, blood pact or no.

He released her slowly. Savoring taste and feel. He couldn't take her. He'd come so far to risk everything so foolishly. Few humans offered themselves up so willingly-and even though she'd argue the point-that was exactly what she was doing. It was a soft sigh in his ear as he let her go, eased her shirt back into place over to her warm skin. So she wasn't scared then, just foreign to touch. Amazing that a human like her would…fear…something like that. Would fear her own name for that matter. …What had the Order done to her? What had they done to her as a child?

"No more warnings, human," he growled softly in her ear, easing back. Quietly she nodded. The room was dark. Shifting he drew an arm across her, pulling the woman closer. He couldn't take her, but he'd take what he could. Even if it was an illusion. Dark inky tangles spilled over his arm. The angels would retaliate tomorrow. There was no doubt about it. Attached as she was, they would hurt her human family before they hurt her, and in the process gain a new, albeit demented, god. The Fragment could be brought to _her_ by other means, but the angels would kill Lauren for the sheer spite of it. It would be difficult to prevent. "Sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

The bed was warm as it was soft. Her scent was littered over the place. It reminded him of the other one, the one the angels were a glutton to send her to, but only vaguely. No matter the skin it wore, the fragment was still a fragment, and Lauren wasn't a human. As human as she could be, the extent to which she emulated humanistic behaviors, no human would do as she had just done. Humans did not accept what they were afraid of. Shivering slightly, she sighed, tilting her head back. Her eyes flickered in the darkness, catching the light for a moment like glittering cat eyes. Humans never had gold eyes did they?

"Good night Vergil."

"Good night Lauren."

**Vergil-Several Hours Latter**

Blinking the room came into focus like it always did. Like usual, he was obscenely alert the minute he opened his eyes, a hand going for Yamoto even though he slept in the human realm. Demons were almost pathetically easy to feel in the human realm. There was no miasma to mask their auras. Listening he heard nothing, felt nothing. It had been a nightmare then, not that he remembered it upon waking. One would think he'd had his share of those in the waking world. There was no need for them to be in his head at night. The moon's weak light shone in through the sky light. Snuggled close, Lauren slept on, head resting on his shoulder with her soft feminine breathing. Stirring, he gently set her to rest on the sheets, careful not to wake her. The woman slept on as he sat on the bed's edge, watching her. Dark bangs spilled over one eye, barely disguising the dark smudged bags beneath it. She must have slept little at New Light. The angels or even her own nerves-she wasn't as stupid as the angels thought humans to be-would have seen to it.

She would need weapons. As per usual, she'd foolishly lost her the swords Dante had given her. That was heinously poor swordsmanship, not that Dante had ever been one to stress the finer points of the sword. The angels would eat her whole unless she had a weapon. Cerberious would have something available. The scrounger always had something. There might be an opportunity to take the demon up on his offer as well. There was a possibility, if the angels did somehow manage to get their hands on Lauren, he'd need a strong ally. One did not stand alone against millions, but neither did one completely rely on others. Cerberious would provide enough of a distraction for him to accomplish what was necessary. Assuming the demon could be bribed into participating.

'She'll never thank you for this,' the memory Dante's voice intruded. Of course there was Dante and Trish…Vergil snorted, rising, dismissing the idea as he reached for his shirt. It wasn't for him to beg little brother for his participation in the coming fray. Dante had a nose for demonic activity and would undoubtedly come running the minute he sensed anything. The brash fool would understand as little as Lauren would, and he would still act, the uncouth ingrate. He didn't relish facing Dante's misdirected rage and blade yet again. Perhaps this time, he'd wipe that smirk from his twin's mouth.

He yanked the shirt on over his head and reached for yamoto. Sword in hand he watch the sleeping figure swathed in black sheets for a moment more. The critical time in the game was approaching, best she get sleep while she could. The longer she slept, the more she delayed the inevitable, as impossible as that was. Pathetic human, she needed all the help she could get. Pathetic, unruly, obstinate fragment, there would be no one, not even himself, who could help her or save her from fate. It was his duty to deliver up the shard to the death goddess, Satan's eldest born, not to hold Lauren's hand. The woman wouldn't even accept his help had he offered it. Ha, woman? She wasn't even that. Lauren was nothing more than a higher diety's fragmented power, reincarnated in the human realm. She wasn't even human despite how well she emulated the humanity around her.

Turning, Vergil left the small room, quiet as the shadows themselves. It was time to pay 'Ed' another visit.


	103. From Hell

**Vali**

"You who would destroy them all, I charge you: go now. Bring me Loki, and I will let you have all the sisterly quarreling you so desire. Go now daughter." Red lips smirked in amusement, a white finger tip playing with long red curls. "Bring down the house of angel if you wish. Let it be your legacy, daughter, but never forget what you owe and who it was that spawned you. Your father is waiting for you to act upon this stage as much as I. Now be a good girl and fetch Loki for your mother."

**Lucia and Rayne**

"What the hell was that?" Lucia demanded. Beneath them the earth trembled yet again.

"And I'm supposed to know, how?" Rayne retorted, striving to keep her balance on the shaking ground. Rayne spit out a curse as she too, joined the dhampire in firmly landing on her ass, the ground bucking beneath the two of them. After a moment the tremors stopped. Shakily Lucia stood, brushing dust from her clothes. The sounds stopped her motions mid-brush. A small moaning sound. Oh no…Matier had been at the graveyard… In her mind's eye she could she the old woman, yellow flowers in hand, on her back, hurt…not smiling like she usually did…

"Matier. I've got to go find Matier," Lucia turned to Rayne.

"Whatever," Rayne shrugged, bored. "I'm going to go investigate the earthquake."

"What? _Why_? It was an earthquake. Welcome island life, not everything's demon related."

"Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps, the Hellsmith forgot to mention something," Rayne smirked.

"Talk about the never ending quest," Lucia sighed, rolling her eyes. "If that is the case, the sooner I find Matier, the better. Don't do anything stupid." Turning Lucia reached for her daggers, tightening the knife laden holster before putting on the worn denim jacket.

"Stupid?" Rayne purred. "I doubt it. I wasn't born with the stupidity gene."

"What are you implying," Lucia demanded warily from the door. Her hand rested on the door knob, the door itself already slightly ajar.

"Oh nothing," Rayen shrugged, smirking. "Time to go, don't you think sweet blood?"

**Vali**

Surging, churning, the warmth of her mother was leaving, though not the memory of her touch. Dusky twilight sun, stars and the moon, all distant heavenly bodies staring down on her. She remembered when they had been young in their infancy. Clawing, nails digging deep into the earth she growled, fighting the quagmire that seemed to suck her in. Her mother h ad laughed, cradling her. That putrid excuse for a brother had been there as well, standing afar, his silence enough to make her want to tear at his healed face, to scar it worse than the acid of life had.

Roaring she tore her way to the surface, pushing past the oblivion Loki's fragment had sent her to. The Accord. There was more than one way to break it. Oh how they would pay. Rising she stood, staring at the flawless perfection of her skin. Mother's doing no doubt. A gentle wind stirred, lifter the thick sheet of curls from her back, the tips trailing across her calves. The rubble beneath foot was uneven and hard, though she barely gave it notice. Behind her the hole to oblivion closed, leaving violently upturned earth in it's wake.

Vali glance about herself. An island by the smell of salt in the air. Oh how would they pay. Blood and suffering would only be par for the course hen she returned to that miserable city, more than a thousand demons strong would be at arms. The angels, those damn half-breeds of Sparda's, especially that human. Oh yes, that 'human'. And that mongrel bastard. He believed he suffered, he didn't know anything of the darkness beyond hell, but he would. Mother wanted Loki so badly, she'd send her sister's fragment to her in pieces. Smirking, Vali's hands fisted, the nails cutting sharply into the flesh of her palms.

She was quiet, that little dhampire, though her dirty human like blood gave her away. Turning, Vali faced the pale red head. Green eyes widened in surprise as dual blades arched up.

"Oh shii-" Energy flowed from her fingertips, quickening with her pulse. Ah that sweet energy, the feeling she hadn't possessed since the angels cast her from heaven. Cast _her_ from heaven, torn away her wings, stripped her of her scrollings. It had been all Loki's fault. So they wanted a sacrifice? That was good, she wanted blood. How would her kin react when she flung open the gates to their shattered court? Better yet, what would they do when she tore their hope away? Cast it aside as much as they had her? And those half breeds. There was only so much life left in this body, she would make it count. Everything that she desired would come to pass. She wouldn't fail.

The dhampire's body hit the ground, rolling and skidding across the rough terrain. Slowly it came to a halt limp and unmoving. Dimly, Vail could see the wet glisten of bone and blood. She could hear wheezing as the dhampire struggled to breath. Turning she dismissed the dhampire. It was time to rally her troops. She'd take them by numbers. Pandora's had only been a test of Sparda's brood, had been the angel's warning to heed her words. It was time to cast the dice and let them land as they would. It was going to be a fun blood bath, her demons hadn't eaten in such a long time. The angels would recognize her as their peer or she would drive them under. She would drive them all under and make them suffer as much as she.

The barrier rippled bending under her will before tearing. The vastness of hell lay before her, beckoning to her, enveloping her in it's mysterious warming cold. It was a rare place to find an angel so widely feared. Already she could fell them, the souls of the demons beneath her. The demons she had tamed. The bloody things she had broken again and again to gain that which she desired. Just as she had broken Nero, the dog, he had more resilience than a common demon. He'd retained his self, his soul, and now…

Smirking Vali watched as they congregated at her foot, far beneath her cliff. The masses of untamed demons, churning in their discord, roared to greet their mistress. It was high time to remind the angels who held the real power.

"My precious demons!" Vali's voice echoed across the rugged terrain, reverberating in the darkness. Every demon heard her voice. "Come! For the glory and honor to revel in the fall of mankind. I offer you the body of the son of god. I offer you his blood! I offer you the souls of countless mortals! Gather your weapons, arm yourselves, we march against the son of god!" Smirking she watched the rejoicing of her dark tribe. "Oh yes Nero," Vali surveyed her demonlings, watched as they scrambled to garner their selves, "no more using the human. No more protecting her. She's mine for the taking."

**Rayne**

Pain. Agony. Worse than the sun. Worse than Sir Truman's death. Rock digging into her belly, sharp, hurt, just like the swamp in Lousiana. Arm broken. Couldn't move her fingers. Ankle. Ankle hurt. Lungs screaming for more air. Kagan, the bastard, she'd kill him for this. Flames running through her veins, racing across her body, cutting pathways through her skin. Hazy. Everything blurry. Can't focus. Kagan was dead already. Was she dieing? Already dead? Shakes. A voice far off. Couldn't hear. What? Who? Arm hurts. Don't move. Hurts.

It was elixir. It was nirvana. It was so thick and rich. It was a familiar waterfall pulsating with a gravity of its own. Clock work draining an hour glass. Every tick, every movement forward, pulsating in her mouth, throbbing in her stomach. Beating in time with her own heart. Dribbling down her chin as she greedily suckled the source. Nourishment. Warmth. Sustenance. The pain was receding. She was aware, for the first time, of how utterly and truly _hungry_ she was. No not hungry, ravenous. AS if the ocean's own blood would do little to slack her appetite.

Rayne released the source and opened her eyes, tongue licking the remnants dewing her lips, a pale hand coming forward to clean her chin in a similar manner. Green eyes stared at the demoness. Lucia glared back, pale, heart beat skipping slightly.

"Whadda'ya do? Fall down and twist an ankle on your itty bitty stilettos? I told you not to wear those damn things here. This island was a freaking jungle before the city went up."

"We have to get to the city," Rayne croaked, holding her arm as it healed.

"Suit yourself," Lucia snapped. "Matier's hurt. Sprained her ankle. I'm not going anywhere."

"I saw Vali."

"You what?" Lucia asked, voice as hoarse as Rayne's.

"I saw Vali," Rayne retorted flatly, rising. "Believe it or not, I don't care what you chose to do. I'm going to the city. You and I both know she met her end at Pandora's." Turning Rayne began to stride off. "There is no logical explanation in heaven, hell, or earth as to how she's here now. It can't be a coincidence. I refuse to believe that wench doesn't know something."

"And why would she know something?"

"She's a demon, an old one, shes bound to know something." Sighing. Lucia staggered to her feet.

"And how will you make her talk?"

"With my foot up her-"

"Rayne you're as stubborn as an ass." Lucia called to the dhampire's retreating back. "You have no proof Vali knows anything. And neither of us were at Pandora's when Vali ate it. For all we know she survived Dante and Vergil's attack."

"So lie down here and die," Rayne snapped. "I'm going to the city."

"You take another step and I'll nail your feet to the ground with both of my daggars," Lucia snapped back.

"_I'm hungry_," Rayne hissed, turning sharply. "It not a game. The bloodlust isn't something I can turn off and on. I _need_ to feed. The bitch _hurt_ me and I'm hungry." A sudden smirk brought Lucia to a stand still. She barely breathed, waiting for the dhampire to speak. "Unless of course, you want to offer up that old bird you call a mother. Her blood smells like quite the delicacy."

"You wouldn't dare," Lucia breathed.

"I would and I can." Rayne cocked her head to the side, a tired smirk on her face. "Unless I get off this rock tomorrow anyways. After that, all bets are off sweetblood." Silently Lucia stood, staring at the dhampire, before catching up with her.

"It's two hours until sunrise," Lucia responded. "You have an entire day to kill anyways. Until then you're going to have to help me take care of Matier. She's not going to be able to walk for a day or so, and she has to be comfortable until she can hobble around. I've got a lot of her things to pack if you're leaving in a day."

"You're coming with?" Rayen asked, slightly surprised. "Both of you?"

"And where the hell would you be with out your blood donor?" Lucia demanded, pulling her collar up as she strode on towards Matier's little house. Blinking Rayne stared at her for a moment before lush lips formed a seductive smirk.

"Where indeed? Come sweetblood," Rayne threw an arm around the demoness's waist, hands straying dangerously low, as she walked along with Lucia. "Let us depart for the city."

"Remove'em or I break'em," Lucia replied flatly, shaking off the dhampire.

"Aw," Rayne pouted. "No kiss before I go into hiding for the day?"

"Act your age you hag," Lucia snapped.

"I love the way you taste," Rayne smirked. "Perhaps I can get a quick hit before we leave?"

"You're so sick," Lucia grumbled.


	104. SOS

Alright, alright, we're getting back to the action soon. Expect ass whoppery next chappie, but until then, you get more puzzle pieces to this jigsaw of a story.

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**Vergil**

"You were appointed as the doorman," he commented, his voice carrying in the stillness of the room as he stepped past the threshold. "Do you find it chafing? That Teminigru's watchdog would also serve as her hell hound in the realm of the living? What exactly was your blood debt Cerberious?" The old demon watched as the half-breed casually circuited the small room before coming to a stop at the front of the old beaten desk.

"You smell of humans half breed," Cerberious commented gruffly, leaning back in the squeaky wooden chair. Dark eyes took in the cool demeanor of the other. "One could almost go as far as to say you enjoy living among them."

"I see you haven't lost your sanity while topside."

"Sanity has nothing to do with it boy." Cerberious replied. "My sense of smell is ten times that of yours."

"I believe two swords came into your possession recently," Vergil commented, ignoring the old demon to inspect a curious sword buried on one of the many shelves of the back room. "Old comrades of yours if I remember correctly."

"Agni and Rudra, the brother swords," Cerberious nodded. Swiveling the chair around he reached for a box made of cherry wood. Swiveling back around he set the box gently on the table top. "I almost forgot how annoying their voices could be," Cerberious sighed warily. He slid the box across the desk, towards the approaching half-demon. "They spoke of their new mistress fondly."

"And your fee?" Vergil asked, reaching for the box. The two swords appeared to be sleeping. He'd have to discover how Cerberious managed to enchant the weapons so. Silence was rare enough around Lauren, let alone when the swords were babbling as well.

"I never knew of a human woman-save for one-who could enslave a demon with little more than a glance," Cerberious commented, still staring at the quite red and blue blades. "That was before I died of course."

"Is that so?" the other asked coolly, eyebrow raising.

"It is," Cerberious replied, matter of flatly. He made to say something more but a fit of coughing drew him short. "The fee?" The wolf demon wheezed. "Kill her bitch fragment. It would be worth suffering oblivion."

"I don't recall asking your opinion," The other replied coldly.

"And how long do you think you can keep the fragment from it's own nature? Cerberious retorted. "Vali marches to New Light within the hour. After she's finished with the god incarnate, she'll go after the woman. You know that as much as I do."

"The fragment will be returned to her, Cerberious. One way or another."

"Nice to see you haven't lost your instinct," Cerberious coughed. "I still say, for what it's worth, you should kill the whore human prematurely. Any fool can see what the angels are planning. She's a bitch of a master, that one. I'd love to see the look on her face when she realizes her precious fragment isn't coming home for the holidays."

"Unfortunately, I can't pay your fee, demon," Vergil turned to leave. "Whether or not Vali marches isn't my concern."

"Remember, boy," Cerberious called to him gruffly, "Life with no death, is no life."

**Lauren**

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. What the hell did I do last night? Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed. Goddammit. A closed fist was banging on my front door. It pulsed in time with the nice purple bruises on my shoulder. One even stings a little when I poke it. At least I'm alone.

As usual, Vergil's gone. And I have no idea where the hell he is. Hell being the operative word. Just as well, that gives me time to freak out, time to get it together, time to think. I snogged him. Hardcore. And I didn't even hit him for it. Stupid. That was more than dumb, it was a noobie mistake. I thought I was smarter than that. Well, maybe it wasn't so bad kissing him. But to enjoy it? I massaged my temples. Now _that_ was stupid. No that was beyond stupid. No wonder I'm a shit magnet, I ask for trouble. There's not even a decent smoke to be found.

The person at the door continued pounding, reminding me of what really bad headaches could be like. Aside from the one brought on by snogging your partner and making a huge freaking mess out of everything. …I feel dirty. And with one thing right after another, I think I might need another shower. Maybe a little bleach to go with my rubber ducky Earl. Well, on second thought I could hold the bleach. Earl didn't think it went to well with body wash. The rubbery smart ass. _You shouldn't of done that even if it was nice, ya moron_. Self preservation over emotional stupidity is not working at the moment. You get emotional, you get killed. No if and or buts. I stifled another groan. Do I even own any turtle necks?

The switch blade flipped into my hand. Tucking it into the back of my jeans, I headed to the door, yanking a new shirt on. Not like Vergil was going to ask for more, the jerk had a disposition against humans. I just need to shut my damn mouth until he was gone. And hope to hell he gets out of my life before he ends up breaking something I won't have the energy to replace or fix. If he does something stupid like lording it over me, I'll break his fucking jaw…which means I'm going to have a broken wrist whenever Vergil shows up again. That son of bitch.

"Yeah?" The door eased open a crack on it's own, good sign. "Tweak?" What's he doing here? More importantly, can he see any invisible stigmata tattooed on my forehead? Get together Lor, you kissed the guy, you didn't marry him. God I'm a dork.

"Open up Lauren, I've got something you need to see." Tweak held up a thin white envelop. Just what I need, a half fey with an unmarked envelope. Maybe if I close the door and pretend I never opened it… "It's from that woman. Your sister?" _Great_. I opened the door wider. I ignore the chill traveling down my spine. The knot in the stomach is harder to ignore. Is Tiffany alright? Did she know what the angels were planning? She wouldn't sacrifice me, especially not for a god. My sis maybe an emotional post-pregnant pyro, but she sticks to her principals.

"You brought python girl with you," I commented sourly when Aaron's little sister crowded in after Tweak. She made herself comfortable on the couch, peeling off layers of wet outer wear. "Peachy."

"The letter's for you," Tweak said as I closed the front door. When I turned he was sitting at the counter, holding out the unmarked envelope. "I haven't opened it." Yeah, sure the letter was from Tiffany. I doubt the angels would let her send me anything unless it served their purposes. On the up side, the envelope wasn't big enough to contain any body part bigger than a finger or ear. On the downside, the envelope was big enough to contain a body part. I'm skipping a hot shower for this?

"You don't do messenger work. Not even for Linda." I need a cigarette and a chug mug of coffee. I don't know how much more bad news I can take. If the angels have disfigured Tiffany in any way…they fuck with my family and I swear to god…

"It's not for Linda," Tweak sighed, leaning back against the counter. "I just said it was from-."

"My sister. Yeah, and?" I asked, taking the letter. The outside was blank as the fresh powder still coming down outside. The radio was calling this a record snow fall. Carefully I opened the envelope. It didn't feel like anything but paper was in it. …Hmmm….

"So my little court has gained roughly 300 new members and now I need a place to house them all," Tweak replied conversationally as he watched me. "I don't think I've thanked you for the honor yet."

"It was your ass or mine," I replied absent mindedly, scanning the letter. Then reading it again, slowly this time.

"I have no problem with you owing me," Tweak replied, shrugging. I bet he doesn't. "Until then I'm heading north. You wouldn't happen to have a pot of coffee brewing or something would you?"

"Nope, haven't had the time yet. Where north?"

"Empress BloodRayne's city. She can hardly say no to an alliance with a built in army." Tweak shrugged. "Rumor has it she'll take just about anything so long as it tastes good." Sounds about right. Tweak sighed. "If that doesn't work, we're heading farther north, Canada possibly. Lauren, you okay?" Blinking I stared up from the letter at him. …I'll fucking kill every angel I get my bloody hands on.

"Hm?"

"Your skin," he commented. Looking down I saw he was right. The scrollings were active. Dark hieroglyphics danced, moving of their own accord. Taking a deep breath I willed them to be still and fade. After a minute or so, the scrollings disappeared. "Do me a favor," Tweak added as the scrollings faded, "never look at me that way if you get pissed."

"That obvious?" I asked.

"Just a little," Tweak replied. "I've seen that look before."

"When did you say you got this?" I asked, folding the letter slowly.

"Earlier this morning." Tweak studied me. "What's going on?"

"A family crisis," I commented softly, rubbing my temples. I have to go to New Light. Now. Tiffany needs me. Josh…he's…her tears smeared a lot of ink on the page. She said the angels were going to kill her baby. That they were the ones who killed Josh, that they would kill me if they had the chance. _'Imagine a human the angels desire. What makes you so special little Lauren?'_ They were using her as bait. Hell her letter could be the bait, and for all I know, and Tiffany's already dead. _They are using my family._ Damn Vergil. Where the hell is that idiot when I need him? All that just to get to walk through the front doors of the place. What the hell were the angels planning? I refuse to believe they'd risk everything to bring a god into the 'mortal' realm. Humans being benieth every super natural creature on earth and all.

"Thanks," I dropped the letter on the counter, making my way to my room.

"What will you do?"

"Go to New Light," I shrugged. "Get my sister out of there or die trying." And I'll take out all the angel bastards I can get my hands on in the process. Dammit, I wish I hadn't lost Agni and Rudra at Pandora's. They would be really useful right now. Yammering, whining, bitching, insults and all.

"I would think you'd need these then," Vergil commented. Switch blade going to hand I turned. Vergil was standing in the doorway, holding two very familiar looking swords. Agni and Rudra. I thought I lost them at Pandora's. How does he do that?

"Where'd you find them?" I asked surprised. Dead saints, I snogged the guy. And he's a freaking mind reader. Maybe I can pretend that didn't happen… Well if he doesn't mention it, I sure as hell won't. The knot of tension between my shoulder blades didn't lessen though.

"I didn't," Vergil replied flatly, handing the swords over.

"The demon Cerberious obtained us," Agni grouched, his red face pinched. My half demon partner found my talking demon swords at Ed's pawn shop. O normal tinted reality how I miss thee.

"Cerberious knew of you mistress," Rudra cut in. "He kept us, cleaned us. He claimed you still had a need for us even though Angi claimed-" Agni cleared his throat, cutting Rudra off.

"It doesn't matter, Mistress. We are ready to do your bidding." Aw, look, Agni missed me. Crotchety old demon swords are better than pet gerbils. I should get them a pack of bubalicious or something. They rejected my offer of cigs last time.

"I missed you too boys," I smirked. Agni harrumphed and pretended to ignore me while Rudra attempted to tell me a five hour story of what happened to him and Agni since Pandora's. Sarah was staring at me with her mouth on the ground. Tweak shook his head, unsurprised, as he stood.

"Rudra," I interrupted his mini-tirade, "quite being rude and say hi to Sarah. She's the sister of a friend of mine." I let words 'who died' pursue and early death. Sarah had to be hurting. Hell, Aaron's only been dead a week or so. Bleak thought. I wanna help the kid but I can't. I've got to take care of my family before I can help Sarah. Blinking Rudra stared at Sarah.

"Hello Miss Sarah," Rudra began slowly, still blinking. "You're human as well?"

"Hi," Sarah replied, eyes wide and blinking. "You're a talking sword?"

"Pathetic," Vergil commented sighing. I shot him a look, even though it was kinda true. Every little girl needs friends. Especially when someone they loved has just kicked it. I would know.

"And that's Vergil," I told Sarah, nodding over my shoulder. "He can be a jerk, but just ignore him unless he's waving a sword at you." Sarah giggled. Much better. "Hey, and if you're ever in the city and need a place to stay, look me up. I owe Aaron a lot, so, if you ever need help with anything…"

"I know," Sarah said quietly. She looks up at me finally, "Thanks."

"No problem," I shrug. I turn to Tweak. "I'm not going to make the same offer for you. I think you know why."

"I wouldn't expect it," Tweak replied blandly. "Though I would expect a little support if I don't have anywhere else to turn to." After everything he did for me while I was at Linda's mercy…hell, Tweak was the one who checked me into the hospital when Linda gave me an OD of blitz the first time around, which is the only way I survived the blitz coma. He was also the one that got Marcus to contact Tiffany.

"Fair enough," I reply. "Just don't expect too much."

"Whatever," Tweak shrugged. "Sarah, time to go."

"'Kay," Sarah got up from the couch, grabbing her hat and scarf. Tweak followed her as they left the room.

"You'll have a hard time at that," Vergil commented dryly, the 'you're a dumb monkey' tone was in full swing.

"I can keep up," Sarah snapped, bristling. Sharp kid, not that it takes a genius…

"Oh really?" Vergil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not pathetic you jerk," Sarah snapped. I stifled the chuckle for my own health, but the smirk stayed plastered on my face. Atta' girl, python.

"Educate your self, stupid child," Vergil replied, nodding to the window. Tweak glance between me and Vergil, a slightly puzzled look on his face. This can't be good. He's being coy with details again.

"What is it now?" I asked warily.

"In case you failed to notice," He replied flatly, "the city is being over run with demons at the moment."


	105. Beginning of the End

Okay here we are, another update-the chapter goes out to The Great Evil and anonymous reviewers. I'm too technologically impaired to get a hold of you all by PM's and what not-though I am working on that-so here ye be! A public hello and thank you for the kind words! XD At least I know how to work Microsoft Word. lol Meh, I'll stop wasting your time. Read & enjoy!

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**On the Road-Dante**

The motorcycle screamed, rubber scorching the ground as the bike fishtailed, the back tire carving a giant arc through the swarming crowd of marionettes. Rebellion's heavy blade came down, slicing through spider demon's thick hairy leg. A green spray of bodily fluids arched, splattering across the cement ground. It was chaos, he might add that it was turning out to be good for business. It didn't take a genius to guess what was happening. A war. What it was over, he didn't really care to know, though he could make more than a few educated guesses. The shop was swamped with phone calls. Everyone from the mayor to high school janitors. How the hell they got their hands on his number he didn't know. It might have had something to do with Enzo being in town though. Dante brought the heavy blade up as the bike continued to circle madly, blocking the sin scissor's blade. Gunning the engine, the back wheel popped, tearing through the fallen spider demons innards, the tire's rubber scrapping away first outer skin and finally internal organs.

"Eat it," Dante chuckled, "they're iron plated this time." His baby was doing pretty good for it's first test run. It had been hell getting his bike built up to the point where it was literally demon proof. Well, he'd killed time building it in any case. He hadn't actually needed a demon proof bike, it had been as close as a hobby as he ever had.

Blade pummel circling his palm, the honed edge danced in a wide circle, deflecting demonic arrows. Nasty energy suckers. Gripping the hilt, Dante thrust the blade through the Scissor's shadowy throat, bringing it along for the merri-go-round ride as the No Names converged on them. They fell like bowling pins, the Scissor's shroud entangling them all as it slipped from his sword's blade. They'd managed to collapse on the archer as well. Reaching at his back, Dante slung the cannon forward. Who ever said there was safety in numbers? He might as well give the damn thing a test run since the demons were preverbal sitting ducks as they struggled under the fallen Sin Scissors. It'd been twenty years since he last fired it off. The demons burned like oiled grease on hot day. They smelled worse than over done road kill.

It wasn't surprising that Mary'd taken good care of it. She had a freaking shrine dedicated to the thing. Whatever, more par for the course. The demons weren't really all that alarming, you see one hostile demon take over of the world, you've seen'em all. Although one thing was certain…Vergil had something to do with it. Or he would at some point. And that was probably the only reason he was heading the direction he was. The demons were all marching towards New Light. He could smell blood thick on the air. The city needed help almost as much as his pain in the ass bro did.

It wasn't just the humans the demon was going after. Vergil should know better. Even after twenty years running with the enemy. Damn bastard. Of course it wouldn't bother him. Vergil wouldn't care about the difference, even if he did acknowledge it from time to time. Humans were still just worthless meat to him. Rebellion slid into place at his back.

Trish revved her engine, running over the few demons too stupid to get out of her rampaging path. He smirked as she drew up beside him, the tip of her nose was red from the cold. The woman had to be half reptilian, she hated winter, only a massacre could peel her away from a warm bed and her cheesy romance novels in the winter months. This was definitely-if he knew his brother half as well as he thought he did-going to be a blood bath. The smoking ashes and ruins of demons lay splattered around them.

"Shall we? You're brother seems to be in a hurry to start the party." she commented, shotgun resting on her shoulder. The Sparda Sword gleamed in the weak winter sun.

"He never changes," Dante shrugged, "Babes first." Laughing, she gunned her bike, shot gun resting at her hip now.

"Try to keep up Dante Sparda. You still owe me from the last rounds you lost." Tires screaming in protest as she pushed the bike, the front tire rising in her rush.

"Uh huh," Dante replied to her retreating back, smirking slightly, "You have no idea I let you win do you?" Petal to the metal Dante followed her.

**At New Light-Vali**

"Tear them from limb to limb," Vali snarled, her voice carrying over the clamber of armor, spikes, scales, fanged teeth, roars of triumph. Before them, she could see the court of the angels. Humans ran in terror from her monstrous army. Angel warriors stood defiant, their ranks doubled by their manufactured seraphim. No matter how inflated their numbers, the angels didn't stand a chance.

Vali watched from a distance as her horde mashed rank for rank with Yanos's brood. The angels of old may have been powerful, once, but their bloodline had weakened with time. The proof of it was before her eyes. An archer's arrow pierced the breast of a shadow panther only as the archer himself was to be thrown sky high by a chest piece shortly before being torn to shreds by the spawn of the demon bird general now two years dead. Meanwhile, the seraphim locked their vile claws deep into the hide of yet another demon, bringing the giant serpent to it's knees. It was madness, it was discord, it was greed and filth and vile acts unmentionable. It was heaven and hell on earth locked in combat for the entire pot. It was her blackest dream come to life.

"Just as well," Vali commented, her lips sliding into a mirthless smirk. It was the same smile she wore when Mundus had fallen, leaving her queen of the underworld in his absence. The fool had been unwise in believing she would resurrect his soul. Until Nero arrived with the key, she would find the angel's little god reborn. Vali breathed deeply, savoring the thick smell of carnage, fire, and war that carried in the air. It was time. Her mother's will be done-the whore-but before that, she would make those mogrels and the key suffer. There was more than one way to break the Accord. It would be as the fates had written it so long ago. The Accord, it would all unravel around them. "I will burry you all," she promised.

**Interruption-Detective Brant-The Present**

"Now just a moment Star," Brant sighed. "Are you referring to the downtown riots three years ago?" If-and that was a big if-Ms. Star's story lined up with actual history, her 'demon invasion' had occurred at the same time as the worse riots in US history had happened. Right in their city, he'd been on duty that night and still had nightmares from the things he had seen.

"Riots?" Star asked, laughing. "Is that what they told you?"

"You're laughing?" Brant asked incredulously. "Miss Star, may I please remind you people _died_ in those riots. Three of this department's best-"

"Well isn't that saying a lot," Star commented coldly, her laughter nothing more than a forgotten memory now.

"-Died during those riots. They all happened close friends of mine," Brant finished gruffly. "You will respect their memory, Miss Star, or I'll book you myself." Honey gold eyes scrutinized the detective in the smoky light of the interrogation room.

"Respect?" she asked quietly. Her gaze didn't falter as she took in the Detective's stern demeanor. "Oh yes, detective, I'm aware that people died three years ago. But is certainly wasn't from any riot. It was hell getting to New Light. The only easy part was leaving."

"Miss Star," Brant began, striving to remain cool. The pen in his hand tapped against the yellow pad, one of the few indicators of his rising annoyance and anger.

"Demons died, Angels died, fey, dhampire, monsters, innocence, everything just died. After a while all their blood began to look alike. Do you honestly believe mere riots tore apart the wealthiest neighborhoods in town, obliterating them just like that? Over night?" She snapped her fingers, emphasizing the point, the sudden sound was jarring in the quiet of the room. Brant opened his mouth. "You honestly believe that people-_humans_-tore three story buildings down to the foundations? On their own?" She raised an eyebrow. Brant shut his mouth. Star leaned forward then, tapping ashes in to the ashtray. "Don't believe everything you're told Detective. Believe what you see with your own eyes, it's most reliable hear say there is. That aside, even senses fail from time to time, there are more things in heaven and hell-on earth for that matter-than are ever brought to light in hear say."

"Hear say like this horseshit story you're feeding me?" Brant asked dryly.

"Oooo, a zinger," Star said, smirking ruefully. She regarded the detective calmly. "If you truly believed that, you would have booked me a long time ago," Star replied.

"I should book you now," Brant growled, tossing the pen down on the yellow legal pad, leaning back in his chair. He could hardly feel his ass anymore. The chair was uncomfortable as hell.

"Is this the part of the interrogation where you start to act like a hard ass?" She waited for his answer, lazily puffing on a cancer stick. Brant stared at her for a long moment before picking up the pen again. He flipped the pad open to a fresh page.

"You were going to New Light," he began, sighing again. Why the hell was he doing this? A small grin on her face, Star nodded.

"Yes, Vergil and I went to New Light," She agreed, watching Brant write out his notes. "Getting there was…interesting…as you can imagine…"


	106. The Difference Between U & Me

okay one thing: i'm moving back to school, so slower/sportic updates. (oh gee there's a shocker.) XD Enjoy!

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Lauren-On the Road **

"Holy shit," I stared. It was a demon. Or a millipede that could fly. Actually it was both. And it spit lightning. Vergil gunned the bike's engine, easily pacing with the thing above us. The thing had to be flying as high as the fourth story of some of these buildings and as long a city block. "Ah Vergil, what happens when that thing decides to turn around?" I asked, tightening my grip on him.

"I'm not dignifying that with an answer," Vergil replied flatly.

"Right, you want me to whip out two tinny blades and start hacking away at that thing," I retort. "Hello! That thing thinks we're ants."

"Though that's hardly the case," Vergil replied, bringing the bike to a sudden halt. I barely heard him over the screaming tires as the bike slide to a stop sideways. I was about to give him a piece of my mind when I saw why he stopped. The demon had turned around. It was moving towards us, or at least it's head was, it's body was still moving above us. The thing was actually wrapped around a city block. Sick. "It wouldn't be charging us otherwise. That particular species of demon is called a Gigapede," he commented, watching the giant disgusting millipede from hell approach us. Nice to know he still utilizes the master yoda of hell moments for times like this, especially when the millipede from hell sees us as a threat. "The outer skin can be rendered vulnerable, assuming you can get close enough to weaken it. Prepare yourself."

"What?" I demanded. Seriously, not a funny. He revved the bike.

"Most insects are vulnerable to fire. The gigapede is no different than a regular insect in this respect." What? Fire? What did that have to do with anything? The thing was sucking up electricity from near by electrical wires, little lightning bolts darted from it's brown hide to telephone wires and back. It's aura alone was a nastier shade than black. We're seriously going to take time out to battle this baddie? Dammit Vergil, I have to get to New Light.

"What are we doing?" Vergil glanced back at me before applying the gas, he didn't say anything, and he didn't need to. One look was all it took. I groaned, holding on for dear life. I don't have time for this.

The Gigapede roared, electrical fireworks spewing from its hole of a mouth. Oblivious Vergil pushed the bike, we had to be going over a hundred by now. The monster of a demon was half a block away when he suddenly pulled the bike up from underneath us. For whatever reason that surprised me. Sometimes I forget how strong he really is. All I felt was his hand coming down on my wrist before he threw the bike.

According to Newton, an object in motion stays in motion, yet somehow Vergil found a way around that rule, even as the bike obeyed it. I landed in a space behind him as the bike hurtled towards the gigapede's head. In a split second, Vergil had unsheathed and resheathed yamoto, leaving the bike in two pieces with a lot of gasoline smattering the gigapede square in the face. Reeling the demon roared, affronted, misfired electric balls of energy slammed into the buildings lining the street. Glass rained down on us. With all the electricity and glass shards, it almost looked like the 4th of July parade.

"If you would Lauren," Vergil commented bored. Wow. Mr. Personality here.

"Mistress, use us!" Rudra chimed in merrily. Dammit, why are we wasting time like this?

"Burn the nasty to a crisp," I growled, unsheathing the brother blades. Agni and Rudra were only too happy to comply. The wave of Agni's fire was pushed along by Rudra's wind. The results were flaming Gigapede innard rain joining the electrical glass rain. I don't even have an umbrella. Meh, whatever. I need to get to New Light. The gigapede listed, it's huge body writhing in pain as it began to fall. It was still alive, in pain and weakened, but it was still charging us. Only this time it's face was on fire. The gigapede bellowed, it's deep voice loud enough to vibrate in my bones.

"Ah Vergil?" I asked, watching the fifteen ton insect shake the ground as it fell from the sky, writhing. Cement and steel buildings collapsed underneath the demon's weight. It was still moving, sliding towards us with momentum. If that thing hit us-which looked probable-we were pancakes. Demon boy was staring at it like it was the seventh wonder of the world. "Vergil? You're still on planet earth right?"

"Do you still trust me little human?" He asked, half smirking. His eyes were cold as he stared at the dying demon skidding towards us.

"Whatever you're going to do, do it some time this century!" I snapped. Silently Yamoto was unleashed again. I never even saw his blade move this time. Hell I've never seen his blade move that fast period. The Gigapede ripped apart into two separate halves, leaving us totally in the clear. By the time the demon's corpse came to a stop, and the dust and debris cleared from the air, two halves of the demon's head were a good half a block behind us rammed into two separate sky scrapers, both of the buildings bent inward like a crushed pop can. Vergil quietly resheathed his sword. Jesus Christ where did that come from?

"Why the hell didn't you just do that to begin with?" I demanded, turning to him. Here I am panicking about getting to New Light and he's playing around with his fucking sword. Figures.

"By all means, feel free to act of your own accord," Vergil replied flatly, "You have swords, you're trained in combat, don't depend on me to fight your battles for you." Excuse me? I give him the finger and a dirty look.

"Yeah, because I need you holding my hand every second of the day," I retorted, shaking my head. It was a question Vergil, no reason to go prick on me.

"You're not concentrating on the task at hand and it shows. Focus. Collect yourself before your emotions become a problem," he comments seriously, crossing his arms. I stare at him before looking at the demon guts surrounding us. It showed that much? Yeah, I'm bugging out about Tiffany. I have a right to be. Don't I? 'Before my emotions become a problem?' I snort. Considering the source…. I rubbed my temple.

"Alright, so I'm worried about Tif. It's not exactly like my sister is half demonic Vergil. She's only human and she never learned half the things I did. I can't say she'll be alright on her own, I can't count on her being able to protect herself. She needs help right now." I resheth Agni and Rudra. "I promised my dad I would protect her when he died. I can't do that if we're wasting time. And the more time we're taking to get there, the more on edge I'm getting."

"If you continue to let your emotions affect your fighting, you won't be able to protect anyone, let alone yourself. Power can only be gained and controlled by completely detaching your logic from your emotions. Once that's accomplished, little can stand in the way of your goals," Vergil replied quietly.

"You act like it's such an easy thing to do," I replied, staring at him. Is that seriously what he does? How the hell do you get that way? What kind of life does that to you? What's the point in getting stronger if you're nothing but a shell? "I've only made it this far by depending on my emotions and intuition. And I can guarantee, if any of those angel bastards have done anything to Tiffany, there won't be any separation of logic and emotion," I shrug. "I'll just tear them apart until I'm stopped or there's nothing left to kill." The scary thing is, I might enjoy it. "But since it's obviously bothering the hell out of you, I'll try to get it together. You better not say I never did you any favors."

I won't forget that it bugs you either demon boy. That way I can wreak havoc on your ass latter. And I'm going all out, hysterics, tears, feminine emotional issues and everything. Let's see him dodge that. Two weeks in a therapy retreat would be hell on earth for Vergil. I can already see him maiming the support group and torching the place to the ground. It's enough to put a grim smirk on my face. It takes a minute, but I clear my head. As best as I can in any case. I don't know how long that's going to last when we get to New Light.

"Better," Vergil comments after a moment, glancing at me.

"I'm putting that stoic mutha' killer thing of yours for sale on ebay after this. It gets annoying and it's a little scary Vergil." He raised an eyebrow at that. Yup, that's right, food for thought, demon boy. You sit there and stew over that for a while. "So, how are we getting to New Light?" Reaching out, he slid an arm around my waist and jumped. Not again… The space where we had just been got smaller as we rose. Ug, I think I need a barf bag.

"If you hadn't totaled the bike, we would still be on it," I grumbled, staring down at my semi-melted combat boots and the distant city beneath them. My stomach rolled as Vergil chuckled.

"Is little Lauren afraid of heights?"

"You already asked me that and I told you yes," I snapped. Beneath us demons were tearing the city apart. God. Tiffany, I hope you're alright. Take care of yourself.

"Focus," Vergil hissed in my ear. I swear to god, he reads minds. "This is your first and last lesson in flying: never look down." Gee, the originality of it all nearly blew me away.

"You think up that on your own?" I asked flatly. Vergil pulled up suddenly, hovering midair.

"Do you see them?" he asked a clawed hand splayed out towards the ocean, pointing in the direction of New Light. There was something swarming around the building. Seraphim? Yes some, but not all of them. There were red birds or something. They were huge.

"What the hell are those things?"

"Your flying instructors," Vergil replied. They were coming towards us. A swarm of multi green and yellow eyed birds. They were demons. And behind them, more seraphim than I wanted to count. Wait a minute…he just said…did that mean…what I thought it meant?

"You. Wouldn't. Dare." I hissed, squirming enough so I could glare him in the eye. Vergil outright laughed. The bottom of my stomach dropped out.

"Enough holding your hand human," he replied simply, "impress me." Impress him? I swear to god, I'll take that sword of his and… I didn't have time to think after that. He let go.

**At New Light**

**Tiffany**

They were coming for her baby. Those monsters and demons alike. She wouldn't let them have her son. Clutching the child close, Tiffany ran to the door, throwing it open to a white marble hallway now completely awash in various colors of red and entrails. In the midst of a blood hazed cloud stood a woman with long black curly hair, dressed in dark armor and a black dress. A few remaining angels stood between the strange woman and herself. Violet eyes danced as they alighted on the mother and her child. Tiffany felt a shudder go down her spine, the hairs on her neck and arms stood up. _She's evil._ Quietly the small swadled babe in her arms began so stutter out his complaints.

"You," an angel, for he had wings though they were white, turned at the sound. Was his name Maniel? Ezekiel? "Run! Get away from here!" The next instant his life's blood splattered against Tiffany's white dress, a metal spike driven through his chest. Behind the man, the woman watched her, violet eyes dancing. They were eyes that held no humanity within them, no kindness or warmth. Run my pretty, but I'll get you too, they said, silently promising.

Swallowing her voice, Tiffany turned and ran, silently, feet pounding hard against the ground. She hadn't run like this since she'd escaped Silent Hill with Lor. Behind her, the screams of the dying filled the air. As she ran, Tiffany prayed as she had when she was little, when she had still believed in a Christian god. But it wasn't a Christian god to prayed to, it was a memory of warm brown eyes, dark wings, hands that had held their child. She prayed and she prayed, each word a companion to her feet, but nothing would bring him back.

**Yanos**

The demons had broken through their defenses, were with in the very walls of sanctity. He could feel the death of his warriors. Of God's chosen. He could feel the approach of Satan's offspring, that debaucherous, rebellious daughter they had cast to hell long ago. He could feel the shard approaching, still alive, and with in it, the second of the Artifacts necessary to birth a god. No doubt the demon spawn would have the third artifact. It was all falling into place…just as he had planned it would.

"Lord?" Ariel asked, ever at his side. Turning Yanos took in what was once a thriving jungle of green. Now it was nothing more than a stark and frozen wasteland. To his left, Metatron, ever faithful even in this darkest of hours. To his right, the traitorous Raziel, weakened and chained to the pew he sat on, his symbiotic soul eating sword tediously nailed into the stone bench-his arm rather stiffly bent as the nail had driven though the remnants of his 'hand'-lest he decide most unwisely to use it.

"Metatron, fetch the woman and the vessel, it is high time." Nodding silently, Metatron stood, halberd at hand. "Ariel, see to master Raziel's comfort. We wouldn't want our benefactress to think we were mistreating her son."

"Yanos, you can't do this. The Accord was never meant to be broken prematurely. The vessel is nothing more than a shelter for Gabriel's fragment. The child is a part of the sanity he's gained while in confinement. It is far too early to release him. You know that as much as I do, he is still unwell," Raziel panted. He'd been from his mother's side for far too long. His corporeal body wouldn't last much longer unless he fed on a soul. It shamed and terrified him to the means of which Yanos would use his hunger. To kill an innocent…these were far from the angels of the last celestial wars…not that he had been fooled as to their real nature...

"Are you so certain?" Yanos asked, his breath frosting in the cold air. "Both you and your sister were thrown to the Vortex all those years ago, when it was know that Gabriel had first become corrupt."

"Yes," Raziel admitted wearily.

"But are you aware of _why_ that was? The Second Coming of god, the reincarnation of his soul rests in that young babe. In the half human, half angel vessel. However, the soul with in the child is incomplete. Indeed the child is more human than god. By sacrificing this child's soul, by using the body of the key forged of your eldest sister-merely a fragment of her former glory-I will transfer god's complete soul into the body of that child. I seek to restore the world to it's former purity. Can you imagine such a thing Wraith? Humanity will know honor, humility, kindness, forgiveness-"

"Servitude, slavery, ridicule," Raziel interrupted bitterly. "My father went insane. You murdered my sister, simply so you could unleash that mad man into this realm earlier than designated? You would presume to cut the cords of fate? Gabriel is no more fit to be a god than you are to be an angel."

"We shall see, my son," Yanos replied quietly to the outburst, a serene smile on his wizened face. "We shall see."


	107. Thrones

Okay, here's an update and a side note. Classes are going to be hard for me this semester (well, harder than they usually are). T.T So, I'm not sure when the next update will be...which (dammit!) might mean I may have to go on two week hiatuses at a time while I'm trying to get both school work an updates done. :O HOWEVER, I refuse to put LNG on a month long hiatus!! (If I can in any way, I'll prevent it from happening with a crowbar.) So, take that for what it's worth! Now enjoy!

PS Racket ball rules!!

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**Lauren**

A moment latter Vergil had his sword out, contending with a Seraphim. I saw it as I fell through the air. Gravity is a bitch.

Arcing through the air, Agni slammed into the hide of a bird demon, the wound gushed thick black red blood. Surprised and screaming the bird reared, but by then I had Agni in a death grip. Turning the demon glared at me with all six of its sewer mold green eyes before diving into a wash cycle spin. Ah crap. I lost my grip on Agni. The momentum sent me flying through the air towards the back of another bird demon. There's something to be said for centripetal acceleration.

This new demon screeched as I landed on its back. Dammit Agni was still stabbed into the last bird. Straddling the beast I hooked an arm around its neck as it tried to ditch me. Okay, okay, take a deep breath. I'm still alive. I'm riding a giant bird demon. I'm going to kill Vergil assuming I don't fall to my death. What do I have? One sword, two baker's dozens worth of demon birds who look like they might start dive bombing my ass at any given moment, every fighting technique I've ever learned, and the fact that if I fall, I'm dead. How the hell do I get myself out of this mess? The only rule, don't look down, everything else goes. I'll kill him.

My demon bird began to nose dive. Releasing my hold on it, I jumped, kicking into a back flip. For a split second I could see all of them, their eyes glowing as they watched me sail through the air, before diving themselves. Spinning, I pulled out Rudra, just in time to place a solid foot on a demon bird. Utilize your momentum Lor. I held my breath. Rudra cut across the face of an attacking bird demon as I pushed off with my foot. Again it was another flip, to the side this time, as I slashed the air with Rudra, the resulting pulse wave sending three more demon birds reeling unexpectedly. I can do this!

This time there wasn't any demons there to step on. Reaching out I sunk Rudra into the thick belly of one of the demons. Screaming, several more advanced from multiple directions. Jerking the demon into a tumbling fall, I kept my legs together. I nailed all of them, spinning in circles with my carrier, before letting go. This time, I tore Rudra away with me. I have to get Agni back if I expect to do any real damage.

Sailing through the air I stepped on another demon that had been trying to attack. My legs burned a little as I launched out again. I have to finish this, I'm getting tired. I can see the demon that has Agni. Another of the birds whizzed past, it's beak grazing my out stretched arm. I barely made it that time. And dangling from a demon who was trying to peck my hand off is getting old.

All around me the demon birds were in a ruckus. It was so loud it was difficult to concentrate. I need Agni to shut these morons up. I swung my feet forward, bracing them against the bird's hard armor like leafy feathers until I was able to pull Agni free. Mwuaha! Success!!!

Reeling the swarm of birds strove to catch up as I fell through the air. Just like I figured they would. Do I have one hell of a surprise for them. I waited a couple of seconds until they were fanned around me, each vying for a piece of my hide, as I spun around and around. I had a few cuts but it was worth it if it meant taking them all out at once.

Crossing Agni and Rudra I infused them with more of my aura than I usually did, drawing my knees to my chest. Crossing the swords, their edges ground together harshly before slipping free in a wide x-like shape. The result was flaming cyclone strong enough to push back and burn the demon birds. Angi and Rudra laughed as the demon birds screamed, their red black blood spewing droplets through the air. Their dead corpses fell to the earth in shattered pieces. I coulda swore they looked like pieces of _rock_… Only five of the birds survived the attack.

Shrieking one of the remaining demons charged. It met Rudra's edge head on. I cut the bastard in half. Serves the jerk right. I was still falling but…shit what the hell was that? The one I had cut…It was? Alive? And now there were two of them? What? Oh, crap, that's not good.

**Tiffany**

The room was hot, it was getting hard to breath too. Her baby was screaming into her breast as she held it close. Flames were licking at the ceiling now, but they weren't helping. They wouldn't keep the woman at bay for long. She could feel it, like cold water trickling down her spine, as the nameless woman approached. Her eyes looked ethereal by the roaring blaze as she eyed the woman from across the licking tips of flame. Shuddering, Tiffany held her child close. It was too late.

**Dante & Trish**

Rolling, he reached for Rebellion even as his bike blew the sky three shades brighter. It had taken him twenty years to get the bike to last twenty extra minuets in a demon fray. So much for that.

"Dante!?" He could hear Trish's voice over the roar of demons and seraphim alike.

"Over here babe!" Rebellion sliced cleanly through a half-dead seraphim as he got to his feet. The angel spawn was attempting revenge since he'd previously littered it's face with a couple rounds from ebony and ivory. Half burnt, bullet ridden, and now cleanly sliced from navel to gizzard, the seraphim fell dead to the ground in a bleak hissing puddle of acid and cartilage fibers. Easily he resheathed Rebellion, the explosion from his bike had killed just about everything. It had left one nice sized hole in the ground as well. Easily he made his way over the rubble, his boots resounding in the far too quiet street. Coughing, waving away dust, Trish joined him. Mud dotted her clothing and face.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, brushing muddy snow from her jacket. "It came out of nowhere." She waited a beat for him to reply, taking care of the gunk caked over her clothes. When he didn't reply, she looked over to him sharply, mouth already open. A glance from him silenced her. Slowly she began to ease a hand towads the hilt of the Sparda Sword.

The heavy sound of grinding metal on hard stone was hardly a harbinger for the giant double rimmed, cerulean wheel that thundered through the city street. Turning on his heel, Dante jerked Trish to the side, both of them sidestepping the careening blades of the angel spawn by mere inches. Reeling, the bladed wheel began to make a wide arcing curve, turning around for another run. Faintly Dante could make out blinking eyes where each blade adjoined to the wheel's rim. That made roughly fifteen eyes in all. Huh. He'd only read about things like that.

"What in the hell-?" Trish began.

"Try what in heaven," Dante replied, sizing up the giant wheel as it ground a ragged path in the street on its quest to kill them. "I must say I'm honored. It's not every day you get to fight a Throne."

"More angel spawn then. Huh, make that plural," Trish replied, her back to Dante's.

"This is almost too easy," Dante chuckled, shaking his head.

"Don't insult them," Trish smirked as she watched a second Throne approach them, picking up speed as it went. "They're too stupid to understand it anyways." Both waited until the last moment before reacting. By all rights sidestepping should have been enough to trick the Thrones into killing each other. However, that was not the case. Barely more than a gasp of air separated the two Thrones as they sailed past each other, leaving a deep grove in the street. Not more than a pace away Dante raised an eyebrow, his smirk more than enough to invite Trish into another bet.

"A case of beer says they can't make tight turns," Trish replied.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Dante smirked. Winking, he disappeared, minutely transporting himself out of the rampaging Throne's path. Turning Trish sized up the other Throne. Reaching for the Sparda Sword, Trish held her ground, not moving as the Throne descended on her. She ground her boots into the broken rubble of the street, tightening her grip on the sword as she lowered it's tip to point towards the ground. The sharp blade faced the sky and still the Throne ground and churned it's way towards her. It was less than a foot away.

Refusing to move, the Throne's blade nicked the tip of her nose before the second Throne collided with it. The impact jarred both Angel spawn into a moment of complete stillness. Seizing hold of the moment Trish brought the Sparda Sword forward, its edge arching as she turned, pulling the blade with her body for a maximum effect. At that same moment, Dante fell from the sky, Rebellion barring down on the two Thrones. Metal screamed against metal. Glancing over her shoulder, Trish turned in time to watch both wheels fall into halves. That had been easier than expected. Whatever the Thrones had been made of, it was a hard alloy. Her blow alone couldn't have done as much damage as it had with Dante's additional power.

"The tip of your nose is bleeding," Dante commented, resheathing Rebellion. She became aware then, that yes, indeed, the tip of her nose hurt like a bitch. As had another millisecond passed she would have been run over by a wheel tipped with blades.

"If a certain half demon had been on top of things, it wouldn't be," She growled, swipping the blood away with the back of her hand.

"Poor baby," Dante laughed, "will a kiss make it all better?"

"That depends," Trish considered. "What are you planning on kissing?" At that Dante roared, his laughter echoing off the quiet building walls.

"Any place you want babe, so long as it's attached to your body."

**Rayne & Lucia**

"A lot's happened while you've been away," Sevrin commented, tossing Rayne a medical beg filled with ruby liquid. He sighed, leaning back in the desk chair.,

"Yes, a lot has happened," Rayne agreed, tearing at the plastic bag with her teeth. Once a usable hole was created, she proceeded to drain the bag of it's contents, slurping greedily. "Did you get a decent room for the Arcadian and her mother?"

"Done," Sevren replied. "There's a guest that's been waiting to talk with you. He arrived just little over an hour ago."

"Tell him to leave," Rayne replied, tossing the empty bag on top of Sevrin's desk, "I don't have any use for door to door sales men." Rayne headed for the door.

"What about a half fey army?" Sevrin asked mildly.

"Now that," Rayne turned, a playful grin on her face, "is something else."

**Yanos**

"The child is dead," Yanos stirred, closing the bible he had been reading. "Metatron has failed, but no matter." Rising the old angel rose to his feet, scrollings slowly moving through out his body.

"What?" Raziel demanded, sitting up as much as his constraints would allow him.

"The child," Yanos repeated slowly, "is dead."

"Sir?" Ariel asked uncertainly.

"The reincarnated soul of God is still with in the child. Unlike when normal humans die, bodies endowed with fragments of God's power do not simply rot and waste away. Rather when the corporal shell decays the fragment of power manifests itself physically in the human realm. You know of the three artifacts nessacary to complete the Ritual of Ascention," the old man paused, looked to both the wraith and the angel.

"Yes," Raziel replied. "The chalice of shadows, the blood of God-sometimes known as the Eye of God, for it was the first and only tear Gabriel ever shed, as well as the Heart of God."

"Very good, my son, you know your history."

"Ha!" Raziel barked. "That's more than you're precious pure blooded humans know. The bible you created for them is nothing more than lies used to coherence them into obedience."

"It is God's will that we be Obedient," Yanos replied. Raziel growled lowly. Ignoring him, the elder angel continued. "When the corporal body of a vessel dies, the fragment of power still lingers with in the shell, unable to return to Gabriel's father soul. Vessels of Gabriel's power have been born over and over again, and I, a most faithful servant of our Lord have collected them, through out the ages, through out the world. I have collected them all."

"Impossible," Raziel whispered, his eyes widening.

"When Jothiel was stripped of his scrolling and cast from our noble house, I took it upon myself to absorb his scrollings. With them, I discovered I could see the threads of fate and time. With age came expertise, sometimes, I can even fragments of the future."

"You absorbed another angel's scrolling?" Raziel demanded. "Yanos, you're disgusting." Shrugging, Yanos moved over to the scarred rock alter.

"Yes perhaps that was a bit reckless, but with out Jotheil's scrollings, I would never have found all of these." With a grunt the heavy top of the blackened rock alter fell from it's base. With in dozen of bright globes glowed in the dark light of the brunt shell of the green house. Raziel's eyes widened as Yanos smiled lovingly at the cluster of souls. "It took so much work collecting them all. Our Lord will be sure to reward us for our diligence."

"You've learned soul crafting," the wraith stated slowly, "You're driving us all to oblivion Yanos. Release the souls, let them travel to death."

"Why would I do that?" Yanos demanded. "So your sister, locked away in the lands of the dead, may gather their power for herself? I've so much work to yet. Once Metatron delivers up the last reincarnation of God's power, when he delivers that small child, Gabriel's vessel, I will become the host for our Lord. I will absorb Gabriel's power. I will become the body of God."

"Oh God," Raziel groaned, slumping against the stone pew. "I told mother you were too unstable to trust."


	108. The Blooding

Hola amigos! Interesting side note about the chappie title. 'Blooding' once refered to an initiation of sorts. In old times an untried hunter would go out, kill an unsuspecting beastie and smear said slain beastie's blood on his face. He was thusly deemed 'blooded' in the hunt and some such. No idea why or how this ritual began, but there you have it, barbaric and as gory as it gets. Slight warning on disturbing imagery at the end of this chap. I'm pleased with how the 'disturbing imagery' turned out too:) So there's my evil streak for all who were curious. So...i updated, you read and i'll get to work on the next chapter and as always enjoy.

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**Lauren**

I clenched my jaw as I fell. The paths the demons had pecked into my hide with their foul beaks stung. Hacking'em apart wasn't working any more, it only made them multiply. Only five demon birds had survived my previous attack and now I was back to two dozen. Nothing I can deal out are killing these demons. Now what? Screaming another demon bird reared, preparing for another aerial attack.

A dark mass hurtled through the air, hitting the bird with a sick hissing sound. Together the acidic mass and the bird went down, tumbling through the air like broken toys. It was a seraphim. A very dead seraphim. A second later I felt a familiar hand snake around my waist.

"What is this?" Vergil asked, unimpressed, "I expected better." We were still falling. The ground and the demons attacking the walls of New Light were becoming disturbingly visible as Vergil tilted backwards, drawing us in a nose dive.

"Kiss my ass. They can regenerate," I shouted back over the wind. Vergil shook his head, his grip tightening as he drew his wings in close. Shit we were going faster now. Does he realize we're flying towards the ground head first?

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy making careless offers," Vergil said quietly, his voice just audible over the whistling of wind. The ground was still rushing towards us. I enjoy making 'careless offers'? Could he get any more...like himself...than is humanly possible today?

"Dammit Vergil, there's like four seraphim and a shit load of demons on our tail, can you save the smart ass comments for when I can decently smack you?" I retorted. Twisting through the air, Vergil somersaulted, driving us in a new direction not more than two stories of going splat on the city's finest concrete. Those few demons that had been on our tail hit the ground with messy results. A second later and we were out over the ocean, circling around New Light. I was a little surprised to see the green house in ashes. When did that happen?

"Are you ready to play little Lauren?" Vergil asked, pulling up while drawing Yamato. Below us the ocean waves looked cold. Hell I couldn't even feel my ears anymore. And he wanted to play? Midair over the ocean? I glanced over to the few birds and seraphim chasing us. This could be good. I smirked. I'm more than ready to kill a few angels.

"Bring it on Lancelot." A slight grin rose to his lips as Vergil glanced over to me.

"As you wish." Then I was flying again as Vergil heaved me skyward. The birds swarmed me in heartbeat, but they were dead already. They were just too damn dumb to realize it, because once the two of us started, we weren't stopping until we had gotten to New Light.

A long silver blade drove through the crowd, impaling two birds and a seraphim but missing my side by fractions as I turned to where Vergil was, lashing out with Agni and Rudra. An uppersweep by Vergil killed off the seraphim and birds simultaneously. Grasping his arm, I swung forward catching a bird neck between my legs before twisting everything ninety degrees to the left. The bird's neck sounded like a twig as it broke. I never used to deliver killing blows so often, now I don't expect to live unless I use at least one.

After that things got intense. Swinging around, I drew Agni catching the hooked claws of a second seraphim. Yamoto glowed blue, replica aura blades drove through the air, impaling the remaining several demon birds as Vergil dealt with the two other remaining seraphim. Rudra slashed deep into the seraphim's featureless face before Vergil wordlessly grasped my arm, pulling me in the clear as he turned on my seraphim. Yamoto was already black with acid as it plunged deep into the Seraphim's spine. Careful of his wings, I drove back the other two seraphim. Rudra and Angi glared a fluorescent red and blue as I drove them into a seraphim's chest. They roared, laughing in Devil Trigger at the onslaught. Nice to know they get a kick out of killing things.

Straddling the Seraphim I pulled both blades down, drawing ragged oozing grooves across its sinuous muscles as we fumbled, churning in the air. Reeling the seraphim struggled to dislodge me, screaming as its wings flailed. It tried to sink its claws into my arms as it began to plummet towards the sea. With all the leather and armor I was wearing, it would have had better luck gouging out my eyes. The bones of the seraphim's ribcage crackled as they broke beneath my dual edges. Drawing up a knee I tore away the brother blades in a wide half circle, clipping its wings before back flipping off the dead carcass of an angel. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the two seraphim Vergil was contending with fall to the sea in pieces. Only one more left.

"Vergil." Glancing over he extended Yamoto before returning his attention to the last charging Seraphim. It was the last beastie. We could kill it with a single blow. Easily I landed on the thin flat edge of Yamoto. We hovered there for a moment, Vergil and I, as the seraphim charged. I didn't even have to ask to know what was on his mind. The seraphim lunged, but for all its regenerative abilities, it was a clumsy attack. For starters, the angel spawn attacked where I had been, not where I was now. Which was currently flipping my ass over it's head, drawing Agni and Rudra into a very strait horizontal line. Just in time for Vergil's vertical one. The seraphim's blood bubbled and hissed, its innards hitting the water before the four other pieces of its body. Vergil drew an arm around me again.

"Well done," he commented as we headed towards New Light.

"And you expected anything less?" I asked. The ocean's salty wind whistled in my ears. I could see the hoards of demons and angels still. See the smoke as they ravaged uptown. Hold on Tiffany. We're almost there.

**Rayne**

She smirked. Tonight was a good night. No, tonight was a night of nights. The fey lordling watched her with a wary flat expression.

"Are you still listening?" he asked, unmoving. Most men would have been out the door and down the hall by now, had she smiled at them in such a way. No not this little half fey, he remained slouched in the chair he had been offered, hair curling over his shirt collar. Only the drawn up shoulders belied his tension.

"You had me at blood exchange, fey," Rayne purred, sliding off of Sevrin's desk. Lucia snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Just so you know, she's hungry," the demonness commented from her leaning spot on the office wall. Tweak raised an eye brow as the dhampire approached.

"Nice to know," he replied, doing his best to avoid prolonged eye contact with the black widow approaching him.

"Good little blood donors don't fraternize infront of the household mistress," Rayne commented, easing her way into Tweak's lap. The spiked stilettos rested upon his knees as practiced thighs tightened about his waist. Gently she leaned forward, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of his throat, her fingers working to undo the top button in the collar.

"It hurts too," Lucia added, watching Rayne work with the fey's shirt. He sighed, his arms never leaving the chair's armrest. "And whatever you do, don't let her give you a pet name."

"Pet name?" he asked, briefly glancing to the redhead currently tearing the buttons from the front of his shirt.

"Sweetblood, if you can't say anything nice, I'm going to make you leave the room," Rayne growled, the over sugared tones in her voice holding a promise of violence.

"See?" Lucia asked.

"Point taken," Tweak nodded his head. Rayne make a grutteral sound, something between a growl of annoyance and a purr of satisfaction.

"Hold still precious," Oversized canines raked his skin as she twined her fingers through his hair. His blood smelled…her mouth watered….she'd gone too long with out…the medical bag should have been enough. It would be a challenge to hold back on this one… She bit in. The fey never gave sign it disturbed him. In a way it was disappointing. She was used to a worm wriggling on hook.

"Before you satiate your hunger dhampire, I have to ask, do you understand exactly why I'm here?" A knife delicately rested against her stomach, the tip of it kissing the inside of her belly button.

"You're stupid if you think a pig sticker like that will kill me," Rayen replied, halting for a moment. She nuzzled his ear, biting it gently, "I suppose that blade is special in some way?"

"Naturally," Tweak agreed. "Could it kill you? Most likely not. Hurt you to the point where any shallow cut you receive from it's edge burned like a fresh iron brand? Absolutely. It's bespelled vampire, with magic as strong as I could master. Now, if you would be so kind, give me your word, Empress BloodRayne, that you will agree to all of my terms."

"I already said I did, precious," she murmured softly, nibbling at his neck. Hmmm…so the fey would fight, just like they all did. Anything that came for cheap wasn't worth it. She would enjoy his blood. However, she was hungry. Sometimes the quickest way to win a battle was the path of least resistance. It was disturbing to have blood so close and not be able to drink deeply. Unlike most dhampire, Rayne usually only took what was offered, as far as business negotiations went. Everything else was free game.

"You won't touch Sarah. She's not one of your meals," The fey continued, ignoring the dhampire. "After you're done with me you go to New Light and you find that damn human woman. Lauren shouldn't be too difficult to find."

"I agreed to this already," Rayne repeated again, easing back to look the fey in the eye. What exactly was the fey implying?

"But do you understand why I asked for those terms in exchange for supplying you with blood?" Tweak asked. "Sarah can't live with the fey. They'll drive her insane, even half-blooded fey, humans can't comprehend the natures of things so long lived. She needs to be around other humans. I believe only Lauren's capable of taking care of her. Understand that the kid is the only reason I'm here right now. Should anything happen to Sarah I will cut your heart out vampire." Rayne smirked, pressing her stomach against the small blade's edge, increasing the pressure of the blade. A small red droplet of blood trickled down her exposed abdomen. The pain was as he had promised, the wound unable to heal of it's own accord.

"Vampire? Don't be so insulting to your ally, pretty. I'm dhampire, not vampire, and you better not forget it." A dangerous grin played on Rayne's lips. "I can only bring your offer to Lauren's notice, you know that. Whether or not she accepts it," Rayne shrugged carelessly, "has nothing to do with our agreements." At that the fey eyed the dhampire. "However," Rayne continued, "the child currently stays with the human mother of Lucia, a woman by the name of Matier. She will stay with Matier until you regain consciousness again." Nodding the fey tilted his head back. He stared at the dhampire through slitted eyes.

"I take you at your word, dhampire BloodRayne."

"You shouldn't," Rayne mused, "I'm not fey, but you're winning points for being such a gentleman."

"Gentleman? Hardly. I'm half fey. I come from a line that's hardly honest let alone-"

"Oh shut up," Rayne interrupted coolly, her fingers twinning through his hair again. "If you must insist on being fey, then know, in this regard, you differ greatly from your bastard father." Rayne cooed, taking the knife in hand and tossing it aside. "If possible fey, I like more than just a blood source now." Leaning forward once again, Rayne bit into the unresisting fey, and drank a drought much sweeter than life.

**Vali**

She licked her fingers clean, suckling away the ruby droplets, long strands of dark waves cascaded down her breast matted with the same crimson liquid. Delirium sang in her bones, an emotion-strong enough to hum the chords in her heart-strummed deep in her chest. Like a cat she moved about the slouched motionless figures, feet graceful as a dancer's, cradling the small still bundle in her arms.

Yanos would cherish her peace offering. When the fool was weakened from the transition, she'd murder him. Mother was well practiced at manipulation, but she had taught her daughter well. When Yanos died so would any idiotic notion of a god reborn, as did Mother's desires.

Behind her, flames popped and snapped, all consuming. Oh but the angel thought he had played his hand well. Did he consider what the role of Sparda's spawn still had to play in this drama? A satisfied smirk danced on her lips as again, her free hand dipped to the small bundle only to come away red once more. Drawing her fingers to her mouth, Vali sucked delicately, cleaning away the red fluid. It was often a misconception that soul crafting dealt primarily with the soul. In all actuality, the blood and heart of a body were as important as the soul, if not more so. For while one's soul could endure centuries in the right conditions, the body as it's contents often failed time's eternal test.

The hand went to the bundle in her arms again. A sick wet sound interjected the fire's steady crackling. Letting her hand-now slick with redness-drop to her side, Vali allowed a small amount of blood puddle at her feet before dropping the small infantile heart. The small organ hit the puddle softly, unceremoniously rolling on its side.

It would be enough. The mongrel would find it, he would understand its implications. So the blackened angel had thought he suffered? The weakness of a human heart may not have been easily perceivable in that one, but it was there all the same. He would come and play as her puppet. He would smell the vitality of the child's blood and he would see the small vessel's heart. He would come, the impudent dog that he was. Oh yes he would come.

Her tongue flicked out, lapping up the gory remnants upon her hand yet. Again a sense of euphoria, better than any power she had derived from the toys she'd ridden and dominated at night, washed over her. Yes, black little angel, come to me, your hands washed with blood, and tell me what is in your soul. And laughing, I will show you the power of a true goddess.


	109. Gateway to Oblivion

Update. Enjoy.

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**Yanos**

"You come with the vessel, my dear?"

"Perhaps." She was a shadow, an inconsistent blurb hovering near soot blackened stone. Visibly paling, Areil stumbled past the wraith, putting the withered being between her and the hell queen. "You know humans used to build these as burial grounds." A sly smirk danced on blood red lips.

"Yes. I stood beside you as they erected their monument to your sister. Watching them together we planned what would take years of achieve. Fitting then, don't you think? That we bury the ruins of the old world in the ashes of the new one," Yanos responded, eyes never leaving the diminishing cluster of luminescence orbs, "the same way we buried the world before it. As you can see, I went to lenghts to recreate that moment, if only to remind you of what once was. Your brother was there with us as well, when the gateways to oblivion were closed."

Each soul seemed to vibrate, singing with its own melody. The discord of the various notes, the life songs of each reincarnated fragment chiming against it's brethren, the choir of the damned souls the ancient had collected over the years. They new the last piece was approaching with Satan's offspring. The souls knew-with whatever minimal intelligence they gained during their time inhibiting corporal human bodies-what it was the demonness-angel carried with the corpse. It was the vessel. The last piece to Gabriel's completed soul. God's completed soul, he could feel it like a newly budding flower, deep with in himself, and they were coming together, one by one, as he absorbed them into his aura, into his body. His own body would serve as a vessel for their lord and his noble work. It was his destiny to serve their lord in such a way, he had seen the future and he knew of his part in the coming of their lord.

"Once combined, these fragments will rebirth Gabriel's power into the human realm," Yanos commented, picking up yet another soul fragment. Slowly it began to fade into non-existence as the angel absorbed it. "The Gate Way to Oblivion will be opened by the Ritual of Ascention.

"And what of the Accord?" Vali asked, violet eyes calmly watching. The ancient scrollings of the angel shone a luminescent white comparable only to moon light. At that Vali smirked. Fitting that there would be blood on the moon on this night, rather than the lily white face the moon usually wore. Blood on the moon, many would die tonight. The moon goddess was weeping tears of blood for the loss of life she could never birth.

"No doubt you've circumnavigated the restraint," Yanos replied, reaching for yet another soul. Vali raised an eyebrow, watching the ancient. "If your lovely hands still move the way I remember, and if your tongue is still able to sweep others away in the wake of your lies. You always were good at getting what you wanted."

"Naturally." Aeriel glanced from between her mentor and the hell queen, confused. Why was the Lord speaking to the hell queen with such familiarity? She was disilute scum…her Lord Yanos had said as much himself.

"My lord?" Aeriel's voice trembled slightly with uncertainly.

"So this is who you replaced me with," Vali said, slowly stalking into the stone hedge clearing, the darkened moonlight making light of the blood coating Vali's hands. Ariel's eyes traveled to the demonness's left hand. It held the vessel by thin, crumpled neck, the infant long dead. Bile rose to Ariel's mouth. How could one do such a thing? The child was all but unrecognizable. Vali cocked her head to the side, eyeing the young, blanching angel. "She's not as pretty as me."

"She has her merits," Yanos replied, "as did you." A dark flush painted Aeriel's cheeks at that, her attention snapping to the ancient angel.

"My Lord?"

"Oh shut-up," Vali sighed. Sharp metal needle like shards drove their way into the young angel's throat. Blood ran thick as Aeriel strove to summon forth her scrollings, gagging. Her eyes went wide with shock as she weakly fell, slumping next to the wraith her long pale blonde fell into puddles around her shoulders. "You didn't even know he had absorbed your scrollings did you?" Vali sneered at the young fallen angel. Beside Ariel, Raziel shook his head. "Still alive little brother?" Vali asked innocently, turning her attention to the wraith.

"As if my wellbeing is your primary concern," the wraith replied dryly.

"Have a snack while you wait dearest, we'll only be a while."

"I never knew you had lovers among the angelic court," Raziel commented softly, glancing over to the dying angel at his side. His eye whites flared, faintly illuminating his hungry soul with in his acid shattered body.

"Imagine what else you don't know," Vali replied, raising an eyebrow. "I am after a fashion, still an angel, dear brother."

"And yet, you seem to have followed in our mother's footsteps," Raziel stated. "You and her both, you'll spread your legs for-"

"You became a soul sucker after our father fell," Vali hissed, red tipped canines flashing. "You consume the souls of the innocence in order to perpetuate your own miserable existence. What makes you so pure wraith? You're just as manipulative as me, more so even, for you'll serve others to attain an end to your ravenous hunger. Do you really believe Loki will allow you to consume the souls of the dead? What are now, to eat the souls of the humanity you claim to cherish? Who are you to pass judgment on me, you vile thing?"

"We are both less than what we once were, Vali," Raziel said gravely. Beside him, Aeriel drew her last, body slumping until her shoulder rested against the wraith's. "You may wish to reclaim your position as our father's favorite, to gain his power, or to seek your other numerous goals through him, but this is madness. You _know_ that."

"And yet, you know just as I do, that there is a thin line between the realms of wisdom and madness. A pity you don't enjoy it the way I do." The hellqueen turned to Yanos, shifting her attention to the soul in the ancient's multi-scroll covered hand. "And what exactly did that whelp of an angel have with in her scrollings that you desired so much?"

"Determination," Yanos responded, distracted by the matter at hand. "Perseverance and steadfastness, among other things."

"An angel of Perseverance?" Vali spit the word out, venom coating her words a dark ugly color. She drew a hand through her hair, the sharp metallic fingertips glinting dully in the coldness of the air. "Was she better than I, Yanos? Did she make you feel the way I did before you and your god depraved masses cast me to hell? Did she take my place in your bed and did she fulfill your needs in a way I could not?" Disgust distorted Vali's face. "Look at you, pathetic and withered. You're not half the angel you once were. You've aged Yanos, while I stayed young. All those scrollings you've absorbed, they took a toll on you, didn't they? What good are you to me now? How can you possibly hope to bring a god into this world?"

"Hence the perseverance, my dear. Patience, we are nearing our goal. I absorbed your scrolling to manipulate the masses from slaying you. My love you survived what no angel should, for that, our lord would bestow you with a great gift. I know this. Please the child's body if you will," Yanos turned to the hellqueen, eyes searching violet voids he once looked into with fond lovingness, the corners of his own eyes curling in mock benignity.

Filthy hellbitch, she was her mother's daughter. The wraith was right, this woman was not the one he once knew. She had been his love, once. Now she was nothing better than a whore. It sickened him. Had her faith in their lord-in her own father- been steadfast, had she groveled for forgiveness on her knees, she would have escaped the tortures of hell unscathed. He had loved her once…but she was nothing but that which he would clean the world of now.

She would be useless to him after the Ritual of Ascension. There was no room for her in their Lord's plans. Not now. She need only hand over the child. With the accord taken care of, his ascension and absorption of Gabriel's power would be with out limit or bars. There would be little the hell bitch could do, once he embodied the Lord's consciousness. Just as well, perhaps it would please his holiness to seek revenge by his own hand.

"As you wish," Vali commented, eyes narrowing slightly. She held of the mangled body of the vessel. Nodding, Yanos carefully took the dead child's body with in his arms.

"And now it begins. We bring God to us."

**Lauren**

The halls of new Light were quiet. Too quiet. This doesn't bode well, but then again…there is a mini-civil war going down right outside. And just as soon as I get Tiffany, we leave this place in flames and ashes. Vergil set me down on the ground, my boots squeaked against the silence of the hall. The wall hole we came in by is giant. I don't want to consider what might have made it. Everyone must be outside fighting or they're already dead. I shivered. The hallway was warm, but I'm not liking the way it smells. We can't be too late. The sound of yamoto being drawn gains my attention. My hands go to Rudra and Agni in a heart beat, unsheathing them.

"So you heeded the letter," a voice called out. "I'm dismayed to inform you, human, that more often than naught familial ties drag one to one's death." It was an angel, he looked vaguely familiar, but didn't quite sound so 'dismayed' as he said he was.

"Go," Vergil said, watching the angel. I glanced between him and the angle. The guy's roughly the same build as Vergil, but he has a halberd, and with it, a nice distance advantage. I don't know if he'll be a challenge for Vergil or not, but when the demon wanna-be says git, I'm not going to question it.

"Never knew you had it in you," I commented, resheathing Rudra and Agni. Holy chunks of flaming poo. Vergil's going noble on me. Is this the end of the world? I hope Tiffany's okay. I pause for a moment, before leaving. Gently I touch Vergil's arm. "Thank you Vergil." Honestly, I don't think I would have gotten this far if he wasn't here.

"You're still here?" Vergil asked flatly, glancing over to me. Casually his legs separated, boots sliding against the dusty floor as he fell into a nearly unperceivable stance. The angel came to a stop before us. "You're a useless warrior when you're emotional. It really is pathetic Lauren." Hmm…there's the Vergil I know….he had me worried there for a minute.

"You will both die," the angel commented, drawing up his halberd. Wow. Arrogant and stupid, I almost wish I could stay and help. It might be an interesting fight to see.

"I wouldn't stop until he whimpers like a bitch," I tell Vergil serenely, smiling slightly. Hell I wouldn't stop until the bastard was dead.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere?" Vergil asks, raising an eyebrow, smirking. His gaze is on the angel, yamoto hangs loosely in his hand. The angel draws up the halberd, his scrollings vivid under his skin. It looks so weird, seeing them on some one else.

"I'm already gone," I reply, turning. I hear the fight start as I race down the hallway. Please be okay Tiffany.

**Yanos**

It was the Ascension. He could feel it burning in the deep of his gut. A low sound came from the depths of this throat. Tears were forming in his eyes. The sovereignty, the purity, the unadulterated bliss… Waves of red moonlight cascaded down on the crown of his head. He could feel it, intangible yet a prescience all the same, surging forward, surround him, existing within the entirety of the room. It was large-a god was a large being-and it was all around him. Embracing him, seeping into his pores, ruffling the downy feathers at the nape of his neck, rolling past his skin like a transparent wind. It was everything. It was existence. It was…his lord…his destiny…everything…absolutely everything…

**Vali**

She smirked watching the withered angel from her place in the pews, her arms crossed. Raziel shook his head before turning to the dead angel beside him. It would seem her brother was in fact hungry. He was bent over the yanos's consort as much as his chains and nailed hand would allow. Blond hair cascaded over cruelly hooked bone claws that served as Raziel's digits as he lowered her body to rest on the bench.

The moon's light bathed Yanos in an absent bloody hue, his scrollings a still ethereal shine in his withered skin. She could feel it, like a vibrating deep in the very marrow of her bones. Yes it was that familiar feeling. The gate way to oblivion was opening, the power of his soul came forth pushing its way into life. The very molecules of the night's air shuddered.

"Welcome home, daddy," Vali mused, smirking. It was only a matter of time now. Yanos was such a short sighted simpleton


	110. The Bleeding Heart Scenario

I just looked this over and kinda realized this is the most messed up post-valentine's day thing I've ever written…it's 'gorerific'...meh, Valentine's day sucks anyways. Enjoy!

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**Trish**

The violence was in a lull now that they had cleared out the main hall of the place. Give or take the froo-froo statues that got maimed in the process. Whatever. She never had been a fan of art work depicting angels. She guessed it was one of those few traits that had stayed with her, even now that she lived in the human realm. Or rather it was _because_ she lived in the human realm, that she knew the difference between an angel and a true monster.

"Well then," Trish glanced over to Dante, "that's a pretty fork in the road." Of course there would be two hallways. There always was. Dante yanked rebellion out of the mushy remains of something-she couldn't quite make out _what_ that thing had been-before sizing up the situation. He raised an eyebrow, a hand going for the inside pocket of his jacket. Few knew of the pocket, even less knew what he kept stored there, save for the clients. A grin spread across her face. Fifty-fifty, it was almost as addictive as black jack.

"Heads says my choice, tails say you get your way," Dante commented, the silver coin glinted against the dark leather of his gloves. "Speaking of which, it's your call this time." Silently Trish nodded. With a sharp tang the small metallic disk spun sky wards. She had to wonder if this was the dual sided coin or a different one. It had taken her forever to figure out he had a coin with double printed sides. Oh, he'd won his share of bets with that damn coin before she had caught on. Blinking, Trish focused on the coin. It had reached its arc and was beginning its fall to earth.

"Tails." Dante's hand snapped closed around the coin. Holding his palm out, his fingers uncurled. Heads, she'd owned the losing fifty fifty this time. Or had she? Dante chuckled, putting the coin away. His dual sided coin was printed in heads.

"Looks like I'll be heading to the left." He swung Rebellion upon his shoulder.

"That wasn't the same sided coin was it?" Trish asked dryly, as Dante sauntered towards the left hall. He didn't reply. "Dante!" Chuckling, the last of Dante's swaggering jacket disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

It would figure he'd take the left. Vergil was in that direction. Dante's connection with his brother was something Trish had never questioned. She had a feeling she never would. Whatever Dante had to sort out with Vergil, he'd do it alone, as he always did. She'd only be there to mend the hurt afterwards. As long as he came back, she'd take him hurting and all. And she'd always hold her silence. She knew from experience that it took more than a well aimed hit laced with dynamite to get that man to talk about something when he didn't want to.

"Men," Trish snorted, turning to face the right hallway. Boot steps echoing, she took the second fork in the road.

**Lauren**

My hands are numb, my legs are numb. I can't breath. Something's fallen from my hand, it's clattering on the ground like a metal spike. Gagging, I fall to my knees. My stomach rolls with the smell of cooked meat. How could this happen? How? I feel something breaking. Something's breaking. Something's breaking and I don't think anyone can fix it no one can fix it and oh my god she's dead she's fucking dead I fucked up oh my god oh my god oh my god Sion I tried I tried I tried so hard but I couldn't help her my sister's dead my sister's dead I broke my promise to him my family's gone I wasn't here for her I wasn't strong enough to help her oh god her blood's all over the place I can't breath I can't see please make this end make it stop why how oh god how can she be dead this isn't possible I'm not seeing this she can't be this she wouldn't this isn't how it's supposed to be

I breathe and I breathe but air isn't enough. My hands are shaking. My throat burns. There's so much blood. So much gore. So much of it that it puddles and chunks splatter and crackle and it's flung across the translucent walls in wide arcs, throwing everything into contrast. The baby's gone…they have her child…they have my godchild…where's the baby?? Where's Gabe?

Something's talking to me, a buzzing I can't hear. Can't make sense of. Something-some one-Agni? Dazed I stare at him. His small sword lips are moving. I can't hear what he's saying. My stomach revolts again, gagging I fall, my knees shaking, slipping under my weight. I catch myself as I sprawl out, my hand touches cold wet. Mutely I stare past the puddle Agni lays in-a puddle so thick it could be bottomless-I stare past the burnt shell that should have hands and feet and fingers and toes. I stare past a face that should have eyes and skin and hair. I stare past the still sizzling chunks of grizzle and fat, past the bones sticking out the remains of her skin, past the grinning blackened skull staring back at me. It's a skull I've lived with for as long as I care to remember and it's a skull that should have a face. I stare at the thing my hand brushed up against. I feel something, something burning my eyes, my throat hurts, the acidic taste of bile coats my mouth.

It's a heart. A small heart. An infant's heart. And next to it…something I've seen before…I've only torn her fucking shards out of Vergil's skin twenty or so times, of course I'd recognize it. She wants me to recognize it. My family…she killed my family…my family…tiffany's burnt so badly how can you bury something like that we didn't even bury Dominique when she looked that way after falling and they're all gone I'm all alone again…_oh god_ _she's dead_…I think I'm going to be sick.

**Yanos**

It was beautiful. It was glorious…he could feel the gateways slowly wavering open, feel the drifting stream of souls expel from Oblivion as Gabriel ascended.

"My lord use me as you see fit," Yanos called to the rising red tide in the sky. "Bring your wisdom, your might and your loving just hand to this corrupt world." Something was amiss. What was taking his lord so long? How could it take so long? The fury of his Lord was immeasurable, the extent of his wrath would fall on all who had condemned him to die. The gateways hovered, glaring red in the night sky, between open and closed. What was his lord waiting for? …He was hesitating? …How could this be? Everything had gone as planned, the ritual had been completed…how could his lord refuse this? He'd worked so diligently in serving Gabriel, every step of the way. During the Celestial Wars, was it not him who served as his master's eyes and ears, informing his lord of the resistance's plots? Was it not him now who continued to serve his needs? Was it not his body he was offering up, in service of his lord?

"Lover you're flawed." Her voice crooned sweet as honey. He could feel her breasts pushing up seductively against the insides of his shoulder blades as her arms draped around his shoulders. "To think…I thought I loved you once." Sharp metal tipped nails drove into his chest, circling around his heart. The bitch! The Accord! She'd never broken it! The damn human still remained alive!

"Vali," Yanos gagged, lightheaded enough to swoon from the pain. His lord was coming…if only he could stall her…only a little more time…this couldn't be! "My angel," he whispered, voice harsh, "why?" Why now? The Ascension was nearly completed! Why wasn't his lord protecting him? This wasn't possible! Every fiber of his being rebelled against the dark hell queen, inmobile as he was.

"I can feel your heart beating in my hand Yanos." Vali smiled softly, trailing a fingertip across the angel's collar bone, leaving a thin bloody line in it's wake. "I can feel your panic. You're afraid. Do you why?" She rubbed against him, purring. "No? Then let me ask you another question then lover: do know what hell does to an angel? Do you realize what you did to me?" Vali asked, voice hard as the nails driven into his chest. "'A slattern cast off of a whore mother.'" Moist crunching sounds reverberated through Yanos's ribcage as Vali twisted her hand about. "You did it to _save_ me?" she asked bitterly, "lover you've lost your sense of realism. I can see through you in a ways you will never grasp, you sopping puritan." Vali wrenched her arm again, eliciting a whimpered groan of pain from the aged angel. A single tear curved down his withered cheek. Above them the sky gleamed an angry red. Gabriel would come, but not yet. "Before you die, you should know this at the very least: the Accord remains unbroken. I have betrayed you, Yanos. With the sacrifice of your soul, I will give my father freedom from his prison in a way you never would had you survived the acention. But after you are dead, I will take his power for myself as he inhibits your worthless body. Your will means nothing, you worthless old man, and you will die like so many of those humans you distain."

"Vali! No! Don't-" Yanos's pleads were cut off short. Vali with drew her hand from his chest, red and wet, the gem in her hand pulsing with Yanos's soul. Naturally, the heart was the house of the soul, and with neither, Yanos was a dead angel. The angel's body crumbled to the ground. She could feel the infant's digesting heart with in her stomach reacting to the souls collected with in Yanos's former corporal being.

"Patience father," Vali smiled up at the red sky, "a little time more and the Accord will be broken. Your will be done, in death as in life, and when you die it will be my will the masses shall serve." That fool Yanos had never realized the Accord remained unbroken until she'd alerted him to it. Pathetic. The Gateway to Oblivion would remain closed until Loki's fragment was sacrificed. It would happen soon now…she could feel them all, moving across her chest board as she so desired, willingly or no. The Accord would be broken, soon, but she would need some specific tools in order to do so. Lowering her head now, Vali regarded her brother, still smiling. Raziel regarded her warily, Ariel's blond hair tangled in his clawed hands. "So littler brother, I don't suppose you know where Yanos hide the artifacts of ascension?"

**Vergil**

Spinning the halberd in his hand the angel sized him up. Vergil could feel a small gush of air carry a past his feet towards the angel as the sharp pointed ax end of the pole weapon came to a halt, pointed in his general direction. Sparks flicked down the angel's arm, shimmering into existence as briefly as his iridescent scrollings, until they had reached the pole shaft. A thunder storm brewed at the Ax head of the halberd.

"It has been a long time since I had a decent match, devil," the angel commented. Vergil regarded the angel quietly.

"Her family's already dead, isn't it?"

"Most likely," Metatron agreed. "By now Yanos will have them slain. You do realize he will murder the woman as well." Silently Vergil's left foot fell back.

"Good bye angel." For the first time a smirk graced the angel's lips.

"I have waited a long time for this day. Should you fail to stop me, demon, I will murder the woman with my own hands." He paused, eyes dancing with a dangerous electrical current. "Good bye demon." The spike tipped end of the halberd thrust forward, easily Vergil turned it aside, Yamoto grinding against the angel's electrified metal. Spinning he leaned back, avoiding the other spike weighted end of the halberd. Catching it in a fisted, gloved hand, Yamoto came up.

"Na-uh," Matatron shook his head, still smiling. Pulling the spiked end back in, electricity flowed through the length of the halberd. Releasing the staff, Vergil's hand came away smoking, the leather palm of his glove burnt through. Red flickered down yamoto as he lunged, catching the angel on his weak side. As expected the angel caught his blow-if barely-blocking it with the width of his damn staff, but not before yamoto nicked a long ragged cut down the side of the angel's face. Smirking grimly now, the angel fell back, putting space between them.

"You fight well for a demon," Metatron half laughed, musing as he wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of a hand.

"You're a fool," Vergil commented quietly, eyes dulling from red to blue. The half demon watched impassively as the angel dipped his head, going on one knee.

"I would be honored if you were to use my soul arm in the battles to come, you will need a weapon of angelic power to defeat an angelic born god," Metatron's voice was wet and thick with fluid. "Damn that was fast." A thin red line of blood began to make it's self apparent. It ran the length of the angel's face, following the curvature of his neck through the collar bone until it began to show through the angel's now cracked armor, flowing down the dull metal in tiny streams and rivers to pool at his knees. The wound itself was nothing bigger than a paper cut, but it ran deep. The angel looked up, "Another time, another place, demon, and the woman would have been slain before you n'ear drew your weapon."

"I'm tired of listening to your voice," Vergil spoke, his voice flat and cold. Yamoto cut through the air again. Wordlessly the angel fell, crashing face first onto the ground, his skull cracking open as it struck the ground revealing the cruel extent of the angel's wounds. There was nothing left that could be considered a head, save for a messy fleshy puddle. As with the cranium, the thin paper line cut creviced and grew until two halves of the angel fell, pulled apart by gravity, the angel's armor cracking like a beetle's shell. His heart, still beating in its last moments only served to increase of the puddle of bodily acids, blood, and other fleshy relics he laid in.

Scrollings flickered warily in his skin a final time before seemingly to jump from flesh to halberd. Contorting the staff seemingly melted into a cruel looking pole axe. White scrollings shimmered along the weapon's edge as Vergil tightened a fist around it's handle. Straitening, the half demon left the gory remains of the angel's corpse. It was time to find Lauren.

The amerhurst flickered, glaring yellow in the dark and quiet hallway, responding to his thought, or so it would seem. He paused for a moment, taking the small gem in hand as he felt a deep twisting in his gut. It was something he hadn't felt since he'd been a boy. He growled, not enjoying the sensation. Enough had indeed been passed between himself and Lauren through the Amerhurst, for him to be physically effected by her emotions. He'd never felt an emotional extension from Lauren, not even when he'd inspected what memories of hers that she'd allowed time for. It was unpleasant thought, but there was no turning back now, what was done was done. Lauren had what she had and she'd take that with her no matter where she went. It was a small price to pay, moreover, it was a necessary evil.

He glanced up to the red sky, a vague tracing of a gateway was just visible for those who knew what to look for. Even in the darkness he knew his eyes would give away his nature for any who had been there to see it. The black bitch, she was forcing his hand. The liquefied heart-the vial Lauren had somehow taken from the fey princess-felt all too real in his breast pocket now. Of course Vali would have the Chalice, she was a blood relation to the wraith. Damned that he'd given it up. It occurred to him, that he had never inquired as to how she'd managed the feat, tricking a fey into handing over such a valuable treasure was no small feat, especially for a human. But then, he was forgetting, she wasn't human. Silent now, he let the gem swing minutely on its chain from his wrist. His figure all but disappeared into the shadows. He had to find Lauren.


	111. Partners III Requiem

Booya! Fun fact no. 1 for the day: There's LNG FANART!! Courtesy of PockyMunchingGod! (She's the shit!) XD It's so kick ass! Go to her profile to see it. Fun Fact no. 2: Lyrics belong to Evanescence, from the song Lacrymosa, chappie title and songage pays homage to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. As always, thank you for the reviews and support! Enjoy!

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**Loki's Prayer**

Out on your own, Cold and alone again.  
Can this be what you really wanted, baby?  
Blame it on me, Set your guilt free.  
Nothing can hold you back now.  
Now that you're gone, I feel like myself again.  
Grieving the things I can't repair and willing...

**Vergil**

Humans struggled their whole lives to liberate a single iota of life from the deep grasping quagmire of death. All to take back, as it were, time from the biological clock that had started ticking at birth. From the moment of conception, everything began the headlong rush towards death, one small measure at a time. If only, however impossible, the clock could be stopped, humans searched for years for the magical recipe to immortality. More often than not, such quests ended in failure.

Most were content to let their lives pass them by, the days blending together in a seamless picture like granules of sand softly falling grains within an hourglass, each one more redundant and indistinguishable than the last. They were implacably unmovable, as it were, with the façade of security and contentment with their own mortality. There were, as with many oddities nature had incurred over time, few exceptions to this norm.

There were the some, though not many, that struggled not to die, but to live. Of those few, even less shone as brightly as the burning stars, expending the life they wished to preserve with their struggles. It was these few exceptional beings that made the struggle worth their time. Some of them confronted death head on meeting the challenge with their heads up, eyes open. They were prideful of the life they'd obtained and consequently exhausted yet accepting that the end had come at long last. Some, like _her_, would meet death and never stop struggling, never give up the fight, never give in despite how hopeless it was. That was Lauren's nature. She was a fighter and she'd never stop driving her way through the undulating mishaps fate hand thrown her way. It was that quality she possessed that he was counting on.

_Vali._ The scent was as thick as the blood and gore, he would never mistake the hellqueen's scent. Red eyes glared through the darkness of the room, taking in the gore, the multitude of torn and battered corpses. They zeroed onto the small huddled figure, rocking slowly back and forth. She seemed to cradle an object in her lap, though he couldn't make out quite what it was. Her shoulders were shaking, the scrolling alive and fiercely red in her skin. They matched the sky. The seal of protection upon her back glowed faintly through the back of her shirt. He sniffed, catching a whiff of cooked meat. _Unexpected…_ Senses alert he stole towards her silently.

The hellqueen had managed to work her black magic once again. The human exuded the sickening tang of despair. It was the last emotion he would have expected from her. He expected anger, deep anger, rage as vast as any wasteland. But no, it would seem she was too human, too human by far. How was it possible for something like her to be so damn human? _He_ was human and he didn't act it as much as she did. The dual blades the human wielded drew his attention.

"Mistress, mistress," Rudra's voice was hushed, echoed by that of Angi's, his bright edged dulled by the day's usage and the pool of blood he lay in. "Please mistress." She didn't respond.

"Lauren?" The blades fell silent at his voice. She trembled now, ceasing her rocking. He could hear the air catching in her throat. When she spoke next, her voice was tight, dull, and hushed.

"My family." Gagging, she gestured, on hand holding her mouth the other hand thrown out, directing his gaze to the blackened mass in the corner of the room. So that was the cooked meat. The figure was so scorched there wasn't a scent to pick up on. However one wasn't needed, Lauren's only weakness had been that of her family. "The bitch-my family," she tried again. She looked up to him now, glancing over her shoulder, eyes brazen. It was a cold realization. He had expected something like this but…it didn't have to be this way. He'd murder Vali slowly and trade the corpse to the hellsmith to rape and consume. Yellow eyes glared at him, masked over by red. The same crimson trickled down her cheek. She was crying.

"My apologies," he commented, glancing once again to the carnage.

"You're sorry?" she asked, her voice harsh. "She," again the little human gagged, holding up the object that had sat in her lap. She rose to her feet, somehow avoiding actually looking at what she held in her hand as she stared him in the eye. "The fucking bitch tore it out, and then," her breath was shaky and she was losing what little color she normally had. Blinking, she tried to stare at him, tried to continue speaking, but tears leaked out from the corner of her eyes, blood red trickling down her cheeks. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready by far. For his part he continued to watch her quietly, irritation rising. Lauren wasn't human…how could she emulate humanity to such an extent? It was damn right annoyance to watch her cry like a whelp.

"And then she," Lauren's voice was strangled, though she tried to continue. "She-" The heart itself was small, half as small as it should have been. An infant's heart, but it had been gnawed upon. The irritation shrank considerably at the sight of the infant's heart, thoughts reeling. The eyes had been a harbinger, the heart was a death sentence. Vali had known Lauren would find it, just as Vali would know only he would grasp the real meaning behind the organ. Oh there was no denying, this was a clever masterstroke by far. She'd get the damn Accord broken …but before all that… The organ slid from Lauren's fingers as she covered her face with her hands.

"She tore it out and she-she-," the human was breaking, choking on her own words. The goddamn woman was too human for her own good. He drew Lauren close. Pulling away she glared at him. "I'll kill the bitch," she spit out, her hands dropping to her sides in fists. "I'll kill the fucking bitch. My family, what she did, she can't, I won't let her-" The heated words stirred a memory, it was a faint one, weak and inconsistent at best. _'I'm not going to let that happen to me! I need more power! I'll save her Dante! I'm going to save mother! I won't let them do this!'_ Ironic. Blinking he realized Lauren was still ranting, "I'll fucking tear her heart out. What she did to them-"

"They're not coming back Lauren," he interrupted. She went silent, staring at him, the tears still trickling down her cheeks, pooling under her chin until they fell to the ground. She shook her head slowly, wordless. "They're dead. You can't bring them back." Not yet in any case, but soon, very soon. Lauren was intelligent, there was no reason she wouldn't have been able to understand. But now…it was going to be this way. Already Lauren's aura was expanding, the pressure of it plastering hairline cracks within the walls of the room.

"You're supposed to be able to do anything," she whispered softly. The Accord was waiting, like a silent observer over one's shoulder. He couldn't let this go on forever, unless she regained control of her emotions and quickly…

"I'm only a half demon," he retorted, grabbing her arm and drawing her near again. "I can do many things, but raising the dead is not one of them."

"But-"

"They're dead, Lauren."

"They can't be!" She snapped. "If you won't do anything, I will!" The single minded logic of it. He recognized her pain for what it was, but indifference swept aside the bittersweet memories that lingered. She was avoiding the inevitable and she was willing to fight with anyone to cling to the desperate naivety that her family was, in some way, still alive. It was a futile battle, and in his experience, the sooner one lost that battle, the better. The world was not the kind place 'family' made it out to be.

"You _can't_ fix it. _They are_ _dead_," he enunciated the words clearly.

"The hell I can't!" Tears welled up again, as she bowed her head. Of course, she would fight what she knew. Her humanity made her weak, as it inherently did in any being. To his knowledge only humans and the fey practiced the art of self deception.

"No. You can't," he retorted flatly. With that she broke, owning up to the seeming inevitability of the situation. The simple affirmation devolved the woman into a child. She cried, her face pressed against the front of his jacket, each breath tearing through her. Reluctantly, he found an arm sliding around her waist. How had she learned to emulate human emotions so well? Did she seriously still think she was human?

"How did this happen? I don't even remember the last time I told her I loved her...and dad and mom…and now she-she…I miss her Vergil. I miss my family." He held her carefully, seething inside. She didn't have any idea what she was. Her emotions were blinding her. She wouldn't understand. Not for a long time. It had never had to be this way, but for Vali wanton lust for violence.

"I know." Her hair was soft underhand, her scent stirred as he ran a hand through it. Her skin was warm to the touch. Touching it left his hands burnt. The gateways were opening, the red moonlight shone in through the cracked windows of the room. The floor beneath their feet trembled slightly and the walls of the room had begun to crumble and shatter. The tinkling sound of breaking glass soon followed, as the windows shattered apart. It was the Amerhurst's doing that allowed him proximity to her.

The back of her flared a brighter shade of red from the seal it hid. The moon in the sky seemed to pulse with an anger of it's own. _**Vali you fucking bitch**!_ Of course the hellbitch would see her opportunity the moment she'd laid eyes on Lauren. '_Very well Nero…You have my word, I won't touch your toy._' She'd forced his hand and circumnavigated the Accord in one foul sweep. He'd murder the bitch with his hands around her throat laughing, if only after she'd tasted of yamoto.

The sharp in take of breath shuddered against his earlobe. She was quiet, no longer crying. It was her strength coming through, the ability to move past the moment. The quality was perhaps one of her saving graces.

"I should have known," she whispered softly, voice hollow. She was trembling again. "I should have known."

"Do you still trust me little human?" Her hold on his jacket tightened under her fists. She nuzzled his neck for a moment, or perhaps it was that she no longer had the strength to hold her head up, and as usual, refused to rely on him. He could feel the wetness of her tears press and smear against his skin.

"Someday I will make you ache like I ache," she promised softly. The comment was somewhat unjustified in his opinion, but she'd have her vengeance one way or another. Yamoto would have twisted 180 degrees were it anyone else. It was amazing that she had felt the blade enter her torso to begin with. The sweet spot, third vertebra down, once that was gone there was no feeling. Even if she had felt the blade, she would feel nothing but numb now. It was one of the quieter kills he'd executed in a long time. A pitiful death for something like her.

"And someday you will understand," he replied, all but holding her on her feet, "but in the meantime, until I find you again, long after this has been completed, you and I, we will have unfinished business." The strength had gone out of her. Shuddering against death and his hold on her, she hissed, head dropping against his shoulder and growing heavy. Her hands released their hold on his jacket. A moment more and she would be gone. Her blood continued to spread quietly through her black shirt, almost unperceivable to the naked eye.

Even dying, Lauren reacted to the accord, her skin still faintly burning his hands, although it cooled now. With a final breath she stilled, going limp in his hands, head still resting against his shoulder. The blazon scrollings in her skin however, remained as vivid as the seal upon her back.

Yamoto dripped her blood softly in the myriads of puddles that spotted the floor as he removed it. She hadn't suffered, not in any way he could have prevented. Slowly he eased her corpse to the floor. Her blood was washing them both red with the final beats of her heart. She always hated it when she was covered with blood. Pale skin and cold yellow eyes glared up at him, a stray tear falling from the corner of her eye. Black hair became entrenched in substances that coated the floor of the room as he knelt with her. _'She'll never thank you for fucking up her life,'_ Dante's voice whispered quietly. Fair was fair, he had never cared to ask another for forgiveness and he wouldn't start now.

He could almost feel her soul departing, like a flickering candle that had been blow out. It must have been the amerhurst's doing. It flickered a dull yellow hue in the reddish moon light of the room. Of course, that's what it was, just another piece of the puzzle that fell into place. Despite what the he'd heard, he hadn't been willing to trust that the amerhurst would work. It was one move Vali would never be able to counter. His last failsafe.

Carefully tilting her head back, uncapping the small vial one handed. Vali wanted a ritual, he'd give the whore a ritual. He'd give her something she would never wish for in a thousand years. The pink liquid, god's own heart, trickled into Lauren's open mouth. When it was gone, he crushed the vial, brushing the shards from his hand. It would be enough. It was all he could do for the time being.

"You will take me with," Agni commended roughly. Vergil glanced over to the sword. The little blade stared at him unwaveringly with yellow eyes. "I go where my mistress does, demon." With a dry nod, he took up the blade.

"As you wish." It made no difference. He resheathed the sword next to his silent brother. With a hand he eased her glazing eyes closed before picking her up once again. She was as light as she had always been. Humans never had yellow eyes. Nature wouldn't allow for it. She wasn't human. But that was no excuse…_Vali_…. Eyes flickered red in the night as he continued onward, Lauren limp and unbreathing in his arms. The bitch would pay. Blood for blood and by the gallons and years, it hadn't had to be like this. He would make the bitch suffer…but first…he would give her a ritual…


	112. Homunculus

I live…not that that's saying much, but here's an UPDATE. (finally) Enjoy!

**Vali**

"Welcome dark knight," Vali's voice purred, echoing off the emptiness of the room. "I've been waiting for you." Vergil paused, taking in the battered ruins of Yanos. Vali was no where to be seen. "You never did fail to disappoint," Vali commented.

"You murdered Yanos." It was a statement, not a question. The dead angel's body was slumped, leaning on the empty alter. A trickle of aged red smeared down the side of the stone.

"Yes. As I have consumed all he possessed that made him of any worth. And you," Vali whispered softly in his ear, "have brought me a key with which to unlock the gates of Oblivion. Such a good, honor blackened knight." Soft fingertips traced across the width of his shoulders as Vali circled him. Coming to a halt before him, the hellqueen cocked her head to the left, studying the corpse the half breed held with delighted eyes.

Dark red scrollings danced with in Vali's skin, betraying the nature of that which she had devoured. He could feel the presence of it, so much like the other Lauren had kept within, only stronger. Strong enough to perspire through the hellqueen's pores, lending her skin a lustrous cherry quality. It was Gabriel's presence-his reincarnated presence- Vali had absorbed fragments of god's soul. No doubt she had consumed not only the infant's but also the dead angel's heart in order to possess the power of God.

"She really is a pretty human, is she not?" Vali asked, smirking. Vergil didn't reply. Smirk dimming slightly Vali turned away, carelessly strolling towards the alter and the angel who would have been god. "Did you love her?" Vali asked sweetly, glancing over her shoulder. "Can a thing like you love anything?"

Sharp spikes of Vali's metal shot through yanos, puncturing the old man's corpse. Effortlessly they lifted him from the ground and tossed him aside. The metal retracted into the hellqueen's skin once again, as she took in the battered sight of her ex-lover's body. Her walk slowed to a pause as she studied the empty alter before her. It would do. Yanos would have seen to it that the ancient stone was useable for the ritual. Turning, she waited expectantly, a small smile on her face as she twisted a strand of hair around a finger.

"What do you care?" Vergil responded finally, coming forward. Gently he placed Lauren's corpse within the stone sarcophagus the alter had become. "You simply wanted a key, Hell Queen. That is what you have."

"If only," Vali retorted flatly, sniffing, studying the dead human. "You murdered her quietly, didn't you?"

"Why ever would I do that?" Vergil asked mutely.

"Clever," Vali retorted, passing a stray eye over the half-breed and the corpse in the stone basin, "for a halfbreed. You've killed her, breaking the Accord, as you knew you must. But you won't let this little worthless piece of trash be devoured by the soul of God. At least, not before due time. And she will be devoured. I will see to it, when I am goddess, I will devour her. I'll even let you watch." Vali purred, shaking her head now. "You must be disappointed. All your work, the fools of the Order, Nallius's sacrifice, all of it, for nothing. And you went to such great lengths to protect her from me. Pity."

"Clever," Vergil countered, "for a whore. I have wondered however, how one such as you can lay claim to the title of ultimate good." Vali chuckled.

"Please," the hellqueen reached into the alter, placing hand at the base of the human's neck, raising her. In the other hand, she summoned forth the Chalice of Shadows, the red scrollings that so mimicked Lauren's danced excitedly. With a pull of her aura, the Chalice came into being. "Even a homunculus can think, as much as it can feel in any case. I was the second born of mother, I am the angel of chaos, and therein of such power lays the beauty of random truth. The random truth of the unexpected. It is the unexpected hardships of life that drive these pathetic insects called man to strive for the future. It wasn't Eve who was the downfall of man, she was merely a convenient excuse to rid heaven of creations whom had grown fat and lazy with their comforts. How can I not qualify as Good? I merely seek the power to make these lazy bugs strive for a future." Delicately, Vali's fingers threaded through dark tendrils of long hair, seeking the small silver thread that was tangled there in. It chimed slightly between fore fingers as she found it. "And their future will be to please my will."

"I didn't think you capable of delusions of grandeur, hell queen."

"Me? Sink into self deception?" At that the hellqueen laughed. "You are one to speak half breed. It took me the longest time to understand, dear Nero. I did wonder, from time to time, how it was you survived after your own twin defeated you." Grasping the thin chain the Amherst portion hung on, Vali yanked sharply, until the metal cut the flesh of Lauren's neck. The Chaice was small and filled quickly, nearly brimming with the thick substance that had since become Lauren's blood.

"You knew that as well then?" He wasn't surprised, nor did the knowledge surprise him. It was easy enough to tell, if one knew what to look for. She'd possessed on of his fragments at Pandora's, not that it was hers to use anymore. The hellqueen eyed him as she straitened.

"Darling, it takes centuries for a demon to regenerate from a soul arm. And I _did_ manage to find a portion of you. You were so determined, so blinded, by your desires. You didn't hesitate when Mundus ordered you to murder your own kin. I can only assume what Loki must have offered you." Carefully Vali raised the Chalice to her lips. She paused for a moment, gracing the demon with a triumphant, mocking smirk. "How do I even know your human's a virgin? Did you taint her, half breed?"

"You are," Vergil enunciated clearly, "a vile cunt deserving of worse than I will visit upon you."

"Those are fighting words, little puppet," Vali laughed. The hieroglyphics frenzied in her skin, while those of Lauren's began to fade. "Do you really think I will be stopped after I've ascended? Half dead as you are."

"Arrogance," Vergil replied quietly in a killer's voice, "is an ugly trait in a woman."

"We shall see," Vali laughed, tilting the chalice back. "We shall see." The substance was thick, droplets trickled down the hellqueen's chin. Raising an eyebrow the half-breed watched her impassively. Above them, the pulsing gateways crept open, the insidious cold it held in check swept the city. It was a cold more dark than the blackest despair, it was a stillness more frozen than death, it was sterile light, blinding in its strength. Lightning crackled across the sky as a blizzard howled, screaming winds tearing through the stone statuesque skyscrapers, their unfeeling metal becoming cold enough to burn at the touch. Infants screamed in their sleep, those who dreamed pleasantly awoke from nightmares, the elderly perished. The chalice held in the hellqueen's hands began to shatter and melt into thick oozing noxious liquid that ran through her fingers to pitter softly on the stone floor. For the smallest fraction of a second, time froze. A filthy silvery liquid droplet hovered in the air, milliseconds from cascading to the ground and gracing the stone floor and the rest of what was left over from the chalice. Time continued, the reverberations of the droplet creating undulations in the small puddle.

The hellqueen laughed, the sound her delirium resounding off the walls of the stone hedge. The redness of her aura swelled to point of visibility as a multi-tendriled orb fell from the sky. It was a star, it was a supernova, it crackled with the greatest of thunder. Slowly, silently the gateway to oblivion swung back and forth, neither completely closed nor completely open, all but broken, the seal upon it shattered. It descended on the hellqueen, flooding the space with it's eerie red light.

A moment later the light dissipated, the wind the transition had stirred still howled through the empty space. Before him stood a red hell queen, fully ascended. Long, iridescent energy seeking tendrils whisped out from her person, seemingly to lap up whatever life it came into contact with, even in the wasteland the garden had since become. The air saturated with her essence, mingled with a power far greater than her own. Long curly dark hair matted with blood fell softly against her breast as did the soft white dress-the hem of it falling softly over the top of her feet-as she came to terms with her new found power. The stone beneath her feet bore their indentations. Black wings, tinted the bloodiest red, crest at her shoulders, expanding to their fullest length.

In hand a multi-linked cat-o-nine tails flicked out, red with power. He didn't show pain as the weapon descended, it's bladed edge cutting deep into his shoulder. Not even as the whip absorbed fragments of his own aura. The whip cracked again, flicking back towards it's owner.

"Now half-breed," Vali laughed, regaurding him with multi-tinted eyes. One was the cruel violet sea he was used to, the other was a emerald brilliance, holding an intelligence that was far too knowing for his comfort. Small stroke of luck she had only one of god's eyes. Lauren had, as per the Accord and the breaking thereof, absorbed the other eye. The hellqueen's voice crackled with age and raw power not of her own, but a male's. Of god's. The red faded from her skin, though the electric aura didn't.

Her voice, not just her physical presence, proclaimed of a powerful internal struggle. Black wings flickered red, fluttering slightly, as the struggle between host and invader raged, the fight between father and daughter, control and chaos. It was raged, and it cooled. For the time being, the hellqueen was mistress of that which had fallen from the heavens. Still the half breed watched her impassively, unimpressed. "You were saying?" Vali crackled, violet eyes afire.

"You will die with in the night, Hellqueen."

**Trish**

"C'mon, that the best you got sweets?" Trish grit her teeth together. The Sparda Sword chimed metalically as the seraphim parried. She had stumbled upon a trio of them. The first two had been pretty easy to kill. However, some one had neglected to tell her that thier blood consisted of acid. Hence, she was listing, still healing from the spray of seraphim blood that had splattered across her shoulders and torso. The last angel bastard was getting away with a hell'uva lot more than he-it?-should have been.

Hissing, Trish threw the seraphim back. Grinding Sparda Sword into the ground, she cracked her knuckles before forming fists and putting up both dukes. This was going to be up close and personal, just the way she liked it. The sword was hindering her speed with it's weight.

Driving a fist forward, the rising seraphim fell backwards onto the ground, taken off guard. Quickly, the demonness pinned her prey, knees popping the seraphim's joints at unusual angles as clawed digits rose to tear her flesh. Sharp nails dunk into soft rubbery skin even as the seraphim raked at her sides and back. Ignoring the pain, Trish pulled. Hearing the tendons and muscle and bones give made her smirk, satisfied. With a final yank, she roared as the head came off. Black acidic blood drenched the ground in front of her and the corpse she sat on. Disgusted she threw the head aside and rose, dusting dirt from her pants. That had been more effort than it was worth.

"Well wasn't that a pretty sight," a voice mused sweetly. Hand on the hilt of Sparda, Trish turned, snarling. Rayne laughed, a smirk on her face. Beside her Lucia took in the sight of the mangled seraphim bodies, eyebrow raised and visibly paling.

"You have something to say?" Trish growled.

"Not a thing, lovely," Rayne smirked. Annoyed, Trish ran a clean head through her wild hair after wiping it off on her pants.

"Then quite staring."

"What is that?" Lucia asked, her head tilted towards the heavens. Rayne and Trish turned to her, before both also looked to the sky. Above them a large red aura, strong enough to make the pit of Trish's stomach twist. God, it seemed so familiar… The red orb flew heaven wards, its malevolence darkening the night sky, as large black wings churned through the air. Was that a person? A demon? An angel? She couldn't be sure and none of the possibilities would have surprised her. It would seem the ritual of ascension had been completed.

"Trouble," Trish replied, sheathing Rebellion. The twist in her stomach increased. Was the kid dead? Did Vergil kill her? …Was Dante confronting him even now? …_Dante_…"Let's go find Dante." There was no doubt in her mind, wherever Vergil was, she'd find Dante.

"Right," Rayne flicked out both arm blades, laughing softly as she stared at the red evil filling the sky. This was going to be a blast. "Well then, shall we?"

**Dante**

"You couldn't resist could you?" He growled. "You went to all that trouble just to watch her die." Rebellion was unsheathed, had been loosed when he smelled the kid's blood on the air. For his part, his twin didn't bother replying. Vergil stood near the alter, staring at whatever-the kid?-lay within it. Above them the sky was growing red with malevolence a demented god on earth promised. For once, Dante couldn't give a rat's ass about it. Let the humans help themselves for once. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you? Did you seriously _enjoy_ it? Did she beg you to live?" Dante demanded, Rebellion's tip dug into the earth. "You know," Dante chuckled grimly, steeping to the side slightly as he shouldered the rebellion, "you only hurt the people who care about you." At that his twin raised his head.

"Would it be a comfort if I said I enjoyed your pain as well, little brother?"

"You," Dante hissed, the tip of rebellion raised, pointing towards his twin's figure, "don't have the right to call me that, Homunculus."

"If I am soulless, then it was you who made me what I am today."

"It was your own ass who fucked you up Verg," Dante retorted bluntly. "You know, I had a lot of hope for you. I knew I'd cut up something important, that day two years ago. I figured you worm your way out the wood work and when you did, I'd find out weather or not you were worth still holding on to." Slowly Yamoto was drawn.

"I suppose this is the part where we fight?"

"You supposed right." Blue electric flicker across Dante's crimson eyes. "I'm not holding back." Turning Vergil smirked coldly at his twin.

"Don't flatter yourself. This time, you lose," Vergil commented, a cold delight in his eyes, "little brother. I wouldn't bother holding out hope, this time, were I you."

"Shut yer goddamn mouth!" Dante roared, charging. Rebellion glowed in the burgedy light of the sky. Easily Vergil fell into stance. Oh yes, little brother, let's see how much you've grown. Their swords met head for head, clanging and grinding and hissing for the force of their collision. Dante was close to changing. He could smell the change in his brother's blood. He laughed. This was only the beginning.


	113. Rewind, Repeat, Replicate

Fight! Fight! Fight! XD jk Really, it's not much in the way of a fight, but honestly, it's all just begun.

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**Dante and Vergil**

Snow drifted down, swirling in the night's wind. Lightning crashed electric across the sky. The blade churned, cutting air, splitting oxygen molecules, until it held, chiming like a bell. The metal beneath it-the same metal the aforementioned sword was created from-heated in the monstrous collision. Artic blue and flame red glared into the other, so alike and yet so vastly different. Churning blade in hand, Vergil blocked Dante's second blow with Yamoto's pummel before lashing out with the blade itself. Twisting to the side, Rebellion cleaved the air as Dante threw his weight behind the blow.

Tumbling through air, two devils spun madly, their skill just out of the boundaries of sane control, grappling. Limb and leg, wing, sword, and claw became enmeshed but never confused in the deadly dance. Ying and Yang, two opposites of the same whole plummeted, a snow tail drifting through the air behind them as thunder resounded again.

Yamoto's edge glanced off of rebellion's side shortly before Vergil's fist drove home into Dante's jaw, snapping his twin's head to the side. Reacting, Dante grasped his Vergil's wrist yanking his twin forward, driving his elbow into Vergil's shoulder, aiming for the tender part of the arm joint. Rebellion followed in its wake, even as Yamoto rose in defense, the blade edge biting through leather until it tasted flesh. Blue red blood sprayed through the air. The air froze around them, stilling the very movement of the stars. First blood. Dante had first blood. His shoulder stung slightly where Rebellion had nicked, though the wound itself was already healed. Wonders never cease.

Above them, the seams of the universe slowly unthreaded as the blood red angelic demoness leeched away the power of the barriers between the worlds. Buildings alternately warped or sprouted various forms of greenery. Violent roots twisted though rusted metal car frames overrun with hell's leeches.

A well placed kick in the solar plexus threw Dante away. Stunted, half changling wings churning, Vergil regarded his twin, a cold smirk on his otherwise impassive face. Little brother had grown stronger. As usual, his twin was, perhaps, his only equal. He was still predicable however. Not a single move his twin had played that he hadn't read before hand. Speed aside, Dante was still playing with the same deck of cards he always had. Disappointing.

Claws delicately scrapped down Yamoto's dull edge, screaming quietly in the freezing winter wind as the frost cold blade devil triggered. For his part, Dante held rebellion loosely at his side, his halted breath icing in the air. Curved horns pushed through liquid mercury bangs as blue eyes finally flickered red. Yes, this was it! Little brother was completing the change, accepting the demon in himself once more, losing all sense of himself. How good of a mentor was time? Was Dante a stronger demon than he was a man?

"You're enjoying it, twin," Vergil commented, tone approving and mouth smirking. "You like the heightened sense of power it gives." The cold smirk grew. "You've changed."

"Why don't you fucking get it?" Dante demanded, growling. The breath and spread of his wings grew. Red flickered down Rebellion's edge as spikes drove through red leather. Claws tightened around Rebellion's pummel, as Dante raised his chin, glaring now. "_You are human_."

"Now that," Vergil replied, feeling the final flames of the change lick away at his bones, even with the cold ocean crashing below them, "was a foolish comment." The haze of the air took on the reddish tint of hell as their blades clashed once again, locked in the same battle they had fought for the last twenty years.

**Mother**

The stone columns shuddered, cracking and crumbling along the seams. The dust flaked across the chessboard tiled floor of the place, coating the piano in a fine powder. It's keys were silent now, however, as were it's strings and the metronome that sat upon it's mantel. The woman no longer had the time to play lullabies.

"That's you isn't daughter? Are you tearing the worlds apart?" her soft voice asked to no one particular. The vast room lay thick in shadows as the woman slowly rose from her velvet covered throne. "You are forgetting your oath, youngest born daughter of mine." The dark purple fabric clung to the woman's frame, flickering like fire as the first cold breeze of death touched it. The woman smiled sadly, the red curly strands of hair lifting from the back of her neck with the rising wind of destruction. Violet eyes took in the sight of the coming storm. "Perhaps that was your intent all along?"

**Trish, Lucia, & Rayne**

As expected, the vast room-if it could be called that-lay in ruin. The bottom of her gut twisted with a familiar feeling she usually felt solely when slaying demons. Something had died recently. Trish's hand unceremoniously went to the sword strapped at her back. Beneath her feet the ground trembled. Something was happening to the city far outside of the walls of this building. And it wasn't just a demonic invasion. Something fundamental was very, very wrong.

"This is not optimal," the dhampire beside her commented, sniffing.

"Let me guess, your spider sense is tingling," Trish retorted dryly. The dhampire flashed her a deadly smirk, vampiric incisors digging into her lower lip.

"Yes, it is."

"Would you spit it out already?" Lucia growled, hands hovering near her daggars. Rayne turned and took in her mirror image.

"Two things," Rayne replied, holding up two glove bound fingers. "Star's blood is on the air." Exasperated, Trish strode forward with an annoyed sigh. Any fool would know Lor was dead from the smell of it.

"You call that useful?" Trish growled over her shoulder. With a cruel sounding snap the chain whip shot out. Turning, Trish hissed as Sparda sword was unleashed. Adrenaline made her movements a blur to the casual observer.

The hooked end of the whip sailed clear past the demonness. Stumped, Trish stared at the dhampire blankly, before turning around.

There, several feet in front of her, a figure was hunched over, on it's knees with Rayne's whip wrapped tightly about it's shoulder, the barbed end digging deep into the thing's rotten body. It had no skin to speak of. Instead of skin, it had acid eaten muscles and tendons stretched over a vague suggestion of a skeleton frame. It had three claws for hands and feet. Ragged, limp excess of dead skin trailed from its back in a broken mockery of wings. The thing raised its head slowly. A shawl covered the lower half of its face to the tops of its shoulders. Black wire like hair fell into white flame sockets of eyes. Entwined through the creature's limbs were yards of metal wiring. The thing breathed as if it were in pain.

"What in hell-" Lucia began.

"If you value your soul, maintain your distance," the figure- was it a demon?-gasped. A sword of light flickered into existence, as if attached to its arm ensnared with the metal that ran the length of the self-same arm. Metal wiring was-in fact-punctured through out the beings body. A dark black, brackish liquid wept from the wounds, leaving a sticky trail behind the wraith. "I have no desire to feed upon you, just as I will have no desire to stop should I start to."

"What are you?" Trish demanded bluntly, Sparda's tip firmly pointed level in direction of the thing. Few demons came with warning labels.

"I am called Raziel," the wraith replied in a desperate voice. If Trish didn't know any better, she would have guessed the wraith would have worn a grimly wry face when he continued. "Please, I beg you. Grant me a kindness, daughters of darkness and hell…"

**Vali**

There were so many worlds. So many planes of existence yet to be tapped. Her consciousness expanded as did her awareness of the realms that lay beyond the fabric that held the stars. Oh there was heaven, there was hell, there was the lands the humans and fey and dhampire and vampire called home, but there were other worlds. Worlds like the one her father had been imprisoned in. Worlds like the place her mother dwelt in. Worlds like the vast realm Loki ruled over. And then there were new worlds. Other earths that lay in the same place as this earth did. The same planet-yet changed-a thousand, thousand times over. A thousand worlds, all laying beyond the fabric of this pitiful, doomed universe. Like a plaque she would sweep out across the universes, across the years and the space. Time means nothing to an immortal, and yes, she would live. She would rule not one world, but many worlds, many universes. They would all come to bow at her feet. She would absorb the powers of those who would stand against her, and forever she would rule all…but first she would complete her ascension. She would absorb the barrier between the worlds, the final fragment of Gabriel's power. After that, well after that….

Already the great barrier, put in place after her father's foolish downfall, was crumbling under the slightest pressure of her will. Hell and heaven began to absorb the humans' realm, merging to become a single plane of existence. Growth and decay, flourished, side by side. The utter chaos of it fueled the exiliric fire coursing through her viens. Fire and thunder and lightning danced at her finger tips. The world, the universe, and everything that lay beyond it. Oh wouldn't daddy be envious.

Below her horrific swords clashed, leaving flickering blue and red light streams in their wake, as two identical demons fought. Snow flurried down in a sandstorm of insanity, but turned to rain in the heat of the combat. A smirk curved Vali's lips. Look how her little homuculous puppet kept his brother champion busy. By the time one had killed the other she would be fully ascended. The final moves of her chess pieces were nearly complete. Just a few more moments. Just a few more…

**Loki**

You who are mine. Come to me. I have come to collect you, dreamer. You, who has been mine since birth, come to me. Quite your dreams, I've a task of import. Dreams of the dreaming, you who are mine, sleeper awaking, come to me.

She smiled, the coldness of her mouth betraying her lifelessness. Everything about her was cold, closed to emotion, closed to the warmth of existence, closed to change. Black hair that took in the darkness of night, took in the dark livingness of evil-took in so much but gave nothing back lest the balances be upset-cascaded down her back. A silver scythe was held in her hand. The orient archaic scrollings flickered down it's shaft as she waited, silently weaving her spell of summoning. The words of the spell sat lyrically on her tongue, like an old bedtime lullaby once sung to a child: You who are mine, you who are mine, come to me, come to me, come to me. Hist Dreamer! Awaken!


	114. Just Like Me pt 2

Hello! Enjoy!

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**Raziel, Trish, Rayne, & Lucia**

"And what exactly do you think I'm going to give you?" Trish demanded dryly. The wraith chuckled softly, wet sounds accompanied the laughter, rising from the creature's throat until the laughter was cut off, dying in a wet fit of coughs. Slowly a clawed hand moved, reaching up towards its shoulder.

"Can you not see I suffer?" The whip hook came out with a moist squelching sound, the thing's brown cloth and flesh tearing with the razor barb. Black sticky liquid oozed into the wound.

"What of it?" Trish retorted, not lowering Sparda. Weakly the thing sank to a knee, its head bowed as it panted for breath.

"Come within a yard of me and you loose your head," Lucia gagged, hands still near her daggers.

"I understand how I appear," Raziel's voice was wry. "Even still, that would be merciful of you." Raising his head once again, white fire eyes trained on the duo red heads. "Please," the ember eyes shifted to the blond, "death would be a mercy. A kindness even. There is an errand I would attend to. I may not accomplish it alive."

"Excuse me?" Trish asked, raising an eyebrow now.

"He wants you to off him sweetie," Rayne repeated bluntly. The whip cracked as she drew it back in. An arm blade flicked out. "If you don't," she shrugged, letting her voice trail off.

"You would gain little from drinking my blood," Raziel commented softly. "More likely, it would poison you."

"And whoever said anything about drinking that crap you call blood?" Rayne asked coolly.

"_What errand_?" Trish interrupted, blue eyes trained on the wraith after darting a glare to the dhampire.

"You are the replica my sister created for Mundus, are you not?" Raziel asked, his tone somewhat baffled. For the life of her, Trish couldn't read the creature that knelt before her. "Don't know of whom I speak of? She is my sister." Rayne hissed, the second arm blade flicked out.

"You helped the bitch didn't you?"

"Aid her?" the wraith asked, confusion growing. "She demanded the Chalice. I could no more hide it from her than I could rid myself of my own blood ties to her."

"You should kill him," Rayne smirked coldy, "but I can guarantee it won't be a mercy if I have my way with it." With that, Trish turned to the dhampire, back stiff. Blue eyes flashed dangerously.

"Shut your mouth, vampire," Trish hissed. "Or I'll feed you my sword." The dhampire regarded the demonness, a mask hiding the emotion within the green eyes. Yellow aura crackled about the demonness's person, highlighting the gold in her short hair. Attention returning to the wraith, Trish glowered at him.

"What do you know of Mundus?"

"You are the replica he commanded my sister to create," Raziel replied, "when she was new at soul crafting. I never knew she met with failure. I was told you were a success."

"A failure?" Trish demanded archly, lowering the sparda sword until it\s tip rested on the ground. "And you're the one asking me to kill you?"

"Yes, and yes, you are a failure as you are not the one that was sacrificed this night," the wraith said. Blankly, Trish stared at him, silent in the measure of confusion his words brought.

"Archetype." Rayne whispered softly after a pause, a low smirk met her lips, "you're the third. You're the missing piece. Lor was always the fourth."

"_What_?" Trish hissed, glancing between the wraith and the red headed twins. Already Lucia had begun to slowly inch backwards, away from the blond haired demonness. Gold electric continued to flicker, the current raising the hairs on the back of Lucia's neck.

"The story is as old as it is twisted," Raziel replied. "Once upon a time my family shattered to the wind, after the celestial wars end, so long ago now. My eldest sister withdrew into her self, after the celestial wars. She still resides in the realm of the dead to this day. I half believe she's forgotten how to come back to this plain of existence. Her name was Loki and she was the angel of death. My other sister was cast aside from heaven, thrown hellwards in retribution for the suffering those of the angelic race experienced while blindly following our Father's rule. Her name, as you may know, is Vali and she was the angle of chaos. I myself was destined to follow my eldest sister into death, the backlash my family received for the sins of my father were grave. I do not entirely remember what was done to me, but I do know I became something other than what I was. I used to be called Angel Raziel, I was the angel of order. However, I do not believe I am that person anymore."

"Let me cry a river for you," Trish growled. "You still haven't explained how this relates _me_ to your cause. Or to those idiots." She cocked her head to the side, indicating the red headed twins.

"I do not expect your pity or your understanding. The story is what it is, it is history past. No being should dare meddle with time," Raziel replied patiently. "In order to maintain the delicate balance of life and death in all the heavens, the hells, and mortal lands, fragments of power, shed from Gabriell's soul are routinely reincarnated on earth. You must excuse the phrase 'routinely' because to an immortal, routinely occurs every hundred years or so.

'These fragments, both men and woman alike, are destined to at birth to grow into their power so they can, with time, guide the world towards a new future. For bettor worse, these fragments are almost always the leaders of men. Perhaps you've heard of them? Or even their work? Herr Krishna, Adolph Hitler, Jesus of Nazareth, John F. Kennedy, Joan of Arc, Confucius, to name a few. There are many more, but for a time, the world and its people have been leaderless, devoid of god's reincarnations."

'It was known that the purifying cycle of reincarnation was coming to a close, and that next reincarnation of God could very well be the last. And so it was, a child was born, not so long ago. He was deemed 'Gabe' after his inheritance, God's true name, Gabriel, greatest and foolish of both angels and demons. We who remain of the Great Family before man grew in awareness have always remained in the shadows, manipulating humanity towards a better future. A future, we had hoped, devoid of a demented god. We knew the angels would make their move, once they had the final shard of god with in their possession. We knew they would undue years of work, and unleash Gabriel from his prison. They would unleash my father and let a power mad being control all."

"I am getting impatient, when I get impatient I have a tendency to maim," Trish commented irritated, yellow aura flickering down the length of sparda. "_What is the point to this story_?"

"Bear with me, I am almost done," Raziel retorted sharply, white eyes flickering until they matched the demonness's in brightness. Above them the battle raged, the heavy clanking of metal resounded as loudly as thunder. "To combat the ensuing chaos, should such an event occur, my eldest sister devised a plot. She would shed her own fragment of power to be reincarnated, as a failsafe against that which Vali would prematurely release. This plan was the done with the assumption Gabriel's soul had been continuously purified over the ages. Unfortunately that was not so, Yanos had been collecting the soul fragments. We did not know." Raziel shook his head.

"There is a specific blue print, developed through the art of soulcrafting, necessary to unleash Gabriel from his prison. This blue print is a key, if you will, to the lock that binds Gabriel. The blue print, this archetype the dhampire mentioned, allows a soul to be immersed within a soulless being, the simple excess of energy, transferring the soul of the key from one domain to the next is all which fuels the release process of Gabriel.

'Vali knew of the first two attempts to create a reincarnated death fragment on earth, a human, or fey, or angel-any soulless being who could act as a ready made soul container-to possess Loki's power. Needless to say this was a threat to Vali's plans. In an attempt to preemptively combat Loki, Vali turned to soul crafting. I learned later, she successfully created a demonic golem, under the command of a Demon Emperor of Hell. She created a golem from the memories of a Halfling, who possessed the blue print necessary to release Gabriel. However," Raziel paused, "you do not possess Loki's fragment. I repeat: you are a failure. As are the two who stand behind you."

**Elysian Fields**

The music is grating, pounding, grinding, thumping, bumping, tearing it's hazy way through my blood. It beats in time to my heart, my perspirations, my breath. Like a potent elixir it revitalizes me, pushing me along into the frenzy, light filled darkness of Fate's dance floor. I love dancing. I love the way it makes me feel. Untouchable. Fierce. Something more than who I am, as if in some way, my soul would leap from the confines of my skin and twirl with the ethereal starlight above. The bliss of the hard rock music grounds me as the alcohol running through my system tumbles me through the washer and dryer cycles on high. Fate is always bouncing. Always jumping. It's my home. I learned to tie my shoes here. I learned how to fight here. Linda's pathetic court was nothing but a shadow to what Fate is.

My parents are at the second floor balcony, watching me, smiling, talking together. Laughing I smile back, my hair sticking the slick layer of sweat coating my back. The skirt I'm wearing slides up a little as I dip low to the floor, my combat boots never slip the way regular dance shoes do. I love it here. This is my home. The song changes, the steady beat remains. I still dance though my legs and feet hurt. For whatever reason, my stomach hurts a little too. Actually, it feels a little numb. I brush it off, just cramps. I don't think I've ever danced this long before.

Lady sits at the bar, drinking a tall one as she talks with Marcus and Aaron. In the corner, near the car they parked inside Fate, Tiffany sits at a small table for two, a cup of tea in front of her. Josh leans against the car, shifting his gaze between the dance floor and Tiffany as they talk. Everyone's here. They all came. I'm so happy. The bar is empty except for us…well, that and another couple I don't know.

He's an old man, I think, he looks kinda familiar though I don't know why. He sits with a long blond haired woman in a dark corner of the bar. His eyes keep watching me, but I ignore him. The woman he sits with talks to him, and he seems to be listening, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. I don't know why, but I really feel that I should know him…déjà vu is slaying me right now. My stomach tightens unexpectedly, it hurts, hurts enough to make me pause for a moment, leaving off the dance. I lean forward into the pain. Ouch, what is this? The cramp from hell or something? And that old man with the silver hair, he's still staring at me. I glare at him, holding my hand to my stomach, as he rises to his feet. Turning he offers the woman he's sitting with a hand. It's so corridial, the way he's acting, it's almost as if he'd from a different time. Brushing off her long dress the woman takes the man's arm. Together they begin to make their way towards me. Dread inexplicably fills my stomach like a fifteen hundred pound boulder. What the hell is their problem? Who are they? _Why the hell do they look so damn familiar?_

**Dante and Vergil**

The sword edge nicked into leather, cutting skin fractionally, as Yamoto blocked the blow. Vergil's own cleaver slid down Rebellion's length screaming, as Vergil spun through the air. His center was tight as he lashing out with a leg, slamming it into his twin's side. He could feel the give as bones broke. Grasping a fistful of his twin's horns, he threw Dante head long, earthwards. A portion of the glass stone hedge shattered in an explosion of glass and gravel and debris as Dante collided with it.

Landing softly on the ground, disturbing the light layer of fresh powder, Vergil reigned in his devil trigger until he wore his more humanistic mask. The dusty cloud of debris cleared as Dante rose to his feet, human now, shaking glass from his hair. The back of his hand rose to his mouth, wiping away the trickle of blood there. Bending down, he hefted Rebellion to his shoulder before regarding his twin.

"That the best you got, pansy?" He asked gruffly, spitting up more blood off to the side. Chuckling Vergil's foot fell back into stance as roots burst forth from the ground, rapidly growing and writhing. The crackling aura radiating from his person deterred it's lecherous grasp. Yamoto resheathed at his hip. A hand went to the pummel.

"Did I disappoint you?" Vergil asked coolly, smirking. Eyes narrowing for a moment, Dante threw his head back and laughed. The remaining sections of Stone hedge quickly became cracked and shattered as it became over run with tangled roots. Slowly the stone hedge affected by the hell portals-formed by tears in the dissipating barriers-fell to dust, which the wind quickly picked up and shifted through the air.

"Nah." Rebellion's tip slammed into the ground. "I was just thinking," Dante eased off his red jacket, letting it drop to the ground, were more weed-like roots began to consume it, before reaching for Rebellion once again, "I've never seen you hit like a girl before." Vergil raised an eyebrow, watching his twin. Cracking his neck, Dante reshouldered Rebellion. "What you got to say to that, pretty boy?"

"You're stupid, as usual. But then, you've always been that way." Vergil replied. "Words do not make up for a lack of competence."

"You would know." Charging, Rebellion dragged across the ground for a moment creating a mini-valley. Yamoto was fast, cutting through the air three times before the time it took to blink had passed. Small circular distortions were created in the wake of the killing blows. Dodging the first strike, Dante disappeared as the remaining two stream line cuts further cratered the savaged ground where he had previously stood.

A moment latter Dante came barreling out of the sky, rebellion singing high time. Vergil drew up Yamoto blocking the blow before both twins separated. Snow flurried, chilling the metal of the swords, catching on blue and red and silver until it was lost on the ground. Swords clashed in a flurry of parries and slights. Snow swirled in a tornado delving into a circular bubble at it's base as swords flew silver in the night air. Friction of the blades melted the snow into rain, air force from the blows held the rain aloft, the razor edged blades cut down any weeds that dared interfere with the battle. Once again blades clashed and held, as they had very long ago, burning red against each other. The rain and snow fell in a hurricane, the tornado subsiding in a bath of water and hacked roots.

"This seems familiar," Vergil commented coolly, smirking at his twin through water slicked bangs. Blood trickled down his right temple.

"Shut the hell up," Dante snarled, eyes flickering red once again behind his own bangs. The blades gave.

"You lose," Vergil commented, throwing Yamoto's weight to the side. As before Rebellion flew with it, unlike before however, the weapon was quickly overwhelmed with the writhing hell roots. Yamoto lowered for the killing blow. "So sad, twin of mine. You refuse to get stronger."


	115. Total Recall

Firstly, I got my **first fic request! Ever!** OMG! So cool!! O.O **Thank you DomMod**!! I think I have an idea (or something similar to it in any case). It might be a one shot or a small lil'story of sorts, and though I'm not making any promises, I will try to give it a twirl. Secondly, chappie lyrics a product of the awesome band **Fort Minor**, from the song 'Slip out the Back'. Thirdly, I'm pissed at my frozen ffnet account! This would have been up sooner, but as i said before my account froze. I have many **bricks of doomage** to throw at technology. ScarQueen growls, snarls, shrugs, and moves on with daily life. Meanwhile the evil internet devil of spite chuckles and rubs hads together sadistically. Okay, that's it on my end. Enjoy the new-and in my opinion-WAY overdue, chappie!

* * *

Listen its like poker, you can play your best, but you got to know when to fold your cards and take a rest

and know when to hold your cards and hold your breath and hope that nobody else is stacking the deck

because I don't need to tell you that life isn't fair, it doesn't care, it arbitrarily cuts off your air,

and like you I want someone to say its okay, but in the truest parts of our hearts everybody's afraid

Just underappreciated and overwhelmed, fighting so hard to hide our fear that we're scaring ourselves

**Lauren**

"You," I whisper softly. My body feels so light, staring into those familiar eyes. I know this person. I know some one who looked like this person? Maybe? I know I _hate_ this person. Person? He's not even a person…he's a monster. Only he's too much of a bastard to hide and wait in any closet for the sun to set. He walks around in the day and at night, always prowling, always looking for things he needs. And he doesn't care what he has to do to get his way. ?? How…? I wish I had a cigarette.

The old man-no, that's not right. He's not an old man. He's not even human, well he was human but…confused I shake my head to clear it a little. I stare at the guy approaching the dance floor out of the corner of my eye. He comes to a halt, not more than a foot away. It's like he's waiting for something. He regards me silently, the lights of the dance floor splay bright yellows, reds, and greens over him but he's indifferent to it. I don't think any one has ever stared at me like that, but then why do his eyes look so damn familiar? Hell, why does _he_ look so damn familiar?

"It's time," he says. The lightest shade of a growl tinges his quiet voice. Somehow I hear it over the pounding music. It sends cold trickles down my spine. "Are you prepared?" Prepared? Prepared for what?

"Who are you?" I ask flatly, pushing away what he's just said. I don't know what it means and I don't feel like thinking about it. Why do I think I know him?

"Don't you remember?" he asks, an eyebrow raising slightly. "Can't you recall your own purpose for existence?" Remember? Remember what? The long blond hiared woman comes to his side, a red and black blur in the darkness of the dance floor. Softly she touches his arm. He glance shifts to her but he says nothing. He returns that scary-as-hell-gaze back to me.

"Remember _what_?" I ask lowly, annoyed. My stomach hurts. Why does my stomach hurt? I'm so confused. Why do I know a monster? Why is he a monster and why do I feel like I have the right to pummel his face in? I clench a fist at my side, my nails cut the flesh of my palms lightly. Just the sight of this _thing_ and that woman…it really pisses me off. What don't I remember? Who are these people??

"Lor!" Tiffany calls, rising from her table. Josh is at her side. Dark markings flow through his skin. Dark squiggly lines…writing, only…they looked different once…mine…looked…different???? Fucking a…what the hell??? God my head hurts….what don't I remember?

"Some day," the man sighs warily, "perhaps sooner than that, you will understand, until then I would ask you waken from your dream, little mortal." _Someday you will understand. _The phrase echoes in my brain, firing trillions of little neuron synopsizes, detonating thousands of tiny little bombs. I feel my mouth drop open, as I stare at him. White hair. Blue eyes like iced diamonds. _And someday you will understand…until that day however…._ I remember blue ice crystal eyes, I remember mercury kissed white hair, and a red moon haunting the sky. I remember a wry look and a raised eyebrow. I remember dry retorts that make me want to reach out and sock him in the arm a million times over. _Until that day however…._

"Captain?" It's Aaron's voice. He's watching me from the bar, sliding off his stool. Lady Mary is setting down her drink, Marcus follows Aaron. Marcus really never drank to begin with, even at Pandora's. It's weird. I still remember how badly I thrashed his ass when he started a brawl at Pandora's one night. I feels as if boiled asphalt is oozing out of my ears.

"_You_," I say slowly. I remember. I remember Pandora's and Linda and Sara. I remember a baby named Gabe and his father who had chocolate eyes. I remember the god awful tea Tiffany forced down my throat time and time again. I remember the fifteen story nose dive Dominique took off the top floor of the hospital. I remember Sion, staring at me, eyes accepting as his blood seeped through his shirt. Oh my god. Dominique's shoes clatter down the iron grated balcony steps as she rushes to the dance floor. Sion follows her a bit more slowly. He looks the exact way he did the last time I saw him. So does Dominique. So does Lady Mary.

"_It's you_," I hiss softly. I remember red. Violent sprays of blood. I remember my sister's blood and it was all over the place. She was burnt, she lost control and she was burnt. The smell of overdone meat had lingered in the air. Mutely I stare at her over the demon's shoulder, shutting my mouth. Her face is flawless, not a half skinned, grinning skull. Josh stands next to her, an arm around her shoulder, restraining her from going onto the dance floor. I remember blood alright. I remember a fucking sword and a dull, numbing pain spreading throughout my stomach. I remember. I remember the prick's face.

_He killed me._

The fucking bastard killed me… … …. …. ….and I trusted him. '_Someday you will understand…until that day…we will have unfinished business…'_ My nails cut into my palms, making them bleed. _Do you still trust me little human?_

"_You **fucking** prick_," I growl lowly. "_You fucking **bastard**_."

"I have no desire to fight you mortal," the demon replies dryly. The voice is all too familiar, but its off at the same time. Fuck it. I'm don't care. "I am not the one you assume me to be." Well ain't that a fucking pity. Never could tell the fucking truth to save his life.

_**"Fuck you!"**_ I snap. My foot slams into his arm as he easily blocks the blow. He's fast, I'll give him that. He was always fast though. I'm not impressed. The right hook never even touches him, the prick. Grasping my wrist, he simply side steps, using my own momentum to flip me, sending me head first into the hardwood floor. I'm ready for it though. Reaching out with my left hand, I flip, landing on my feet even as momentium makes me slide backwards across the hard wood of the dance floor. Turning to face me, he regards me quietly for a moment as I rise into a an offensive stance.

"Are you quite finished yet?" he asks. _The condescending bitch!_ Gritting my teeth together, I charge. Stupid, rookie move. I don't care. I'm so pissed I could cry. A second later his hand is around my throat, nails digging into the soft flesh near the back of my ears. His grip alone is closing my windpipe as he lifts me off the ground. He was always strong. My feet dangle as he raises me to his eye level.

"_That is enough_," he growls quietly. I reply by attempting to kick him. With his other hand, he graps my boot and twists my ankle to the side. Not far enough to break anything, not even far enough to sprain anything, but my ankel does hurt from him. His eyes flicker red, but it's not just that which finally makes me stop struggling. His aura…it's about as familiar as his face but it's _different_ somehow. His aura is darker, nastier, and more powerful than most other demons. I feel the blood begin to drain from my face as his shadow seems to come to life. His shadow isn't a human's shadow. It jumps up from the floor until it coats the 'man' in front of me with a dark reddish flame. It's the corporal form of his aura, and it's…more demonic than anything I've ever felt. In a brief instant I see draconic wings, spiked horns, and feel sharpened claws replace human nails before it all disappears, sucked back into the woodwork of his illusion. Holy mind fuck. What that hell? Is he??

He's… … … …He's a fucking demon. A real full-fledged demon. Since when the hell is Vergil full-fledged demon? He isn't…he admitted it himself, he was a half breed. What the hell? What is? Who?

"Who the hell are you?" I gasp, tightening my grip on his wrist in an effort to simply breathe. My feet dangle an easy half a foot from the ground as he releases my ankle.

"Oh? Did I manage to gain your attention?" He asks coolly. "I will repeat it again, since you failed to hear me the last time I spoke: I am not the one you assume me to be. Nor did I have a wish to fight you, little human." Jesus Christ…if he wasn't Vergil and he wasn't Dante what part of the family tree was he from? Just by looking at him…hell how many people have those eyes and that color of hair? Fuck it! Fuck him! Fuck Vergil! ...Just...FUCK!

"You're a fucking demon, that's good enough for me," I hiss, struggling against his grip. To that he raises an eyebrow. My vision is starting to go black. I can't breath.

"Dear," the woman at his side-my eyes widen slightly as I finally bother to take her in-touches his arm again, "I believe it would be in the best interest of all concerned if you were to release her before her windpipe closes." Silently, he releases me, letting me fall onto the floor in a sweaty tangled heap. Coughing, I gasp for breath while glaring up at them. Trish? What the hell is Trish doing here? Why the hell is she wearing a goth dress? Gruffly the demon watches me impassively, hands finding a way into the pockets of his long coat. He looks like a lord out of some movie or something.

"Are you alright?" Trish-not Trish asks, extending me a hand as she bends down slightly. Her aura…that's off too, it's too human to be Trish's. Mot to mention Trish's hair has been in a bob for at least half a year now. This chic isn't Trish just as the strong brute backing her isn't Vergil. Déjà vu really bites.

"I don't want your fucking help, lady," I snarl quietly, holding my throat. "And I don't want your fucking pity. Just stay the fuck away from me." Her eyes change as she stares at me then, I can't read her so I don't know what it means, but she straitens again and takes back her pity offering. Slowly she returns to the demon's side.

"Lauren," Dominique's voice softly chides. I glance over to her, standing silently next to Sion. She comes to stand next to me before she crouches down. "They were only trying to help." She smells like she always used to as she sits beside me on the floor. "Don't you remember what happened honey?" she asks softly, smoothing back a stray hair at my temple. Her touch is as light as it is warm.

"Remember _what_?" I demand, frustrated. I rake a hand through my hair, willing myself not to pull it. "I don't know what you're talking about! All I know that guy looks like an asshole I knew!"

"Really?" Dominique asks, a slow kindly, amusment building in her voice. "What was his name?"

"Vergil," I snap, glowering at the Trish and Vergil look-alikes. "He was the fucking prick who cut me. It really _hurt_. Only he wasn't a demon, like that jerk," i say noding to the demon. "Vergil was- he is-a half demon. He's also half human." At that, Dominique softly chuckles, her laughter like small bells.

"Sweetie," she laughs, "I know it may have hurt, but that man over there is a demon by the name of Sparda. The woman beside him is his human wife, Lady Eva." I stare at Dominique then. Something very basic has just occurred to me. Dominique just said 'demon Sparda' and 'human wife, Lady Eva'. Fate was torn down after Linda purchased the deed to the land, Pandora's now stands were Fate once was. Sharp cold numb burned through my stomach until it felt like nothing but a gaping hole had remained. _Someday you will understand….until that day however…._ God Dominique-mom-took a fifteen story fall. Dad was shot to death. Tiffany burnt to death, Aaron's face was crushed in by fifteen tons of bricks. Oh my god. ... ... ... ...Oh my god.

"Where am I?" I ask Dominique, blankly, somewhat dazed. My voice is a hushed whisper when I speak next, a cold trickle shudders down my spine. "Mom? Aren't you dead?"

**Trish**

The wraith stared at her, silent now.

"Failure?" She heard herself ask distantly. "A _third_ failure?" However, she didn't wait to hear what was said, her mind was already wandering through the clouded shadows of her mind, to a place two years ago. _Trish you've failed me. You know what happens next._ She remembered. Oh yes, she remembered, if only in part. The sounds of pain and torture echoed down the long dark hallway. _You would never betray me, would you my toy?_

_She's not Loki's fragment, my lord Mundus, however she may still be of use to you. She was born of the Halfling's memories._ Pain, blue hued blood coated the withering finery of the decayed castle room. Red flickering eyes glaring utter disgust and hatred towards her. _You are **not** my mother._ Twice both sons of Sparda had told her so. _You don't have her flame._ It was never her intention to mother anyone. It was her reason for existence, or so she was told, over and over again until she heard that voice in her sleep. Her purpose was to ensnare. And after that need of existence had been fulfilled, she was forced to find a new purpose of her own creation. And she had created such a purpose. It had been difficult at first: torn between a highly scripted past and such a muddled, apathy present, but she'd paved her own route through life. _'I am not your **fucking** mother, you self centered asshole!'_ She snarled before storming out, leaving an annoyed Dante to follow her and tackle her down. But it hadn't always been like that. No it had taken it a long time to get to anywhere near that. Light sky blue eyes strayed to the fighting figures in the distance. Dante was rising to his feet, shrugging off his jacket, saying something to his brother. She didn't doubt it was something cocky and silver tongued. Memory intruded again.

_Whaddya mean 'what do I do now'?_ He stared at her flatly from his seat behind the desk. He leaned forward then, when she didn't reply, leather crackling in protest as Ebony and Ivory peeped out from their holsters at his side. For the last solid week he had done nothing but leave the small detective agency under her care. She had found it puzzling at first, but then it grew wearisome. Day after day of inaction and she began to feel like a caged animal. Dante always returned of course, smelling of smoke and bars or demons and blood, whether or not he'd had anything to drink that night or even if he hadn't been on a job. It was then she confronted him, to which he had simply raised both eye brows in mock surprise. _Whaddya mean 'what do I do now'?_

_What do I do now?_ She simply repeated, slightly annoyed, an arm splaying out to include the havoc of the place. He was silent for a beat before laughing chaotically, like he always did when he was hell bent on stirring up trouble. He stared at her through slitted eyes as he leaned back into his desk chair, head thrown back. He stayed that way for a moment before actually answering her question.

_You do whatever the hell you feel like, that's what you do, babe._ He'd replied, trademark smirk firmly in place on his lips. He leaned forward then, arm and elbow sliding against the desk's glossing surface, eyes glittering roguishly. _And while you're at it…_

"And while Vali created a golem under Mundus, she attempted to reincarnate Loki's fragment as well. It was by that means that sought to subvert Loki's failsafe against Gabriel. Luckily for Loki and I, the death fragment had already been reincarnated on earth. Unfortunately, that also means your subsequent creation and birth was a failure. I apologize deeply for the sins of my family and I understand how little this must console you but-"

"_Failure?"_ Trish interrupted, her lip raising in slight disgust. "You're _sorry_? Ha!" Her laughter was more of a bark and her smile showed pearly teeth until the both the upper and lower incisors were visible. "Who do you think you are, ugly? I'm _not_ a failure. I am whatever I damn well chose to be." Sparda sword was torn out of the ground and came to a rest on her shoulder. Proudly she glared down at the wraith, an impish smirk painting her mouth. "_My_ _name_ is Trish. I am one hell of a demon slayer and don't you damn well forget it." Both hands went to Sparda's pummel as the sword's length grew substantially. In a few seconds, the blond wielded a cruel looking scythe.

"You begged for death," the blond smirked, her eyes flitting to figure in red now combating a blue shadow, before returning her gaze to the zombie kneeling before her. Her smirk was cold though aura crackled golden as any angel's. "Let me tell you something you little bastard, when I'd done with you, you're going to wonder 'what the fuck just happen'." Trish's grin grew. "Are you sure you're so ready to die, zombie man?"


	116. Internal Chaos

okay, next chappie! Enjoy!

* * *

**Vergil**

The sword thrust forward.

"What's that saying about counting eggs and some shit?" Dante grunted. He reached, grabbing the sword shaft in an attempt to slow the cleaver's plunge. So he had already known Dante was faster, la de fucking da, the fact that Dante had just barely managed to stave off the blow for a second more didn't faze him. Really, it wasn't a question of who was right and who was wrong. Those notions no longer concerned him, if, in fact, they ever had. Ideals as a means to a battle were a spineless politician's strike for glory. He was, most definitely not, a politician. It wasn't the idea he fought for anymore, it was the fundamental concept that ran deeper than blood. Maybe it ran deeper than his own understanding.

No-perhaps?-it was more a matter of who was stronger and whence the power of the victor came from. It didn't matter that his twin refused to accept what their father had left them, that dark sheen of evil that trickled in their blood. More than anything, it was the fact that Dante still clung to his human weaknesses. That's what it had always been about, even before their mother had perished.

Who was the strongest? Who was the fastest? Who was better than even the best of hell's orders and ranks upon ranks of dark demonic knights and rouges alike? Even as children they had continually pushed each other, seeking nothing short of everything to fuel their growing need to define victor and victim, the dominator and the dominated, the weak and the strong. There was never any clear winner, nor was there ever any clear loser. The only answer he ever remembered salvaging from the various experiences were long blurred lines of grays, blacks, and whites. All in all, he always seemed to come out the same: it would always be a shadowy, profound grey truth, muddied with blood and the years of experience. Each new sensation, each new memory, layered on top of the last, making the answer so much more of a profound notion to grasp. Each battle seemed to bring a facet of the truth that much more closer to the light, defining the edge of reasoning he sought to construct. It was an elaborate answer he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. And why he was hesitating, why Yamoto wasn't buried deep in his twin's abdomen cutting away that which made him so damn human… … …. well….he had a few more questions to ask of his dear little brother before completely stripping him of his life. Half the time he thought the answer lay there, buried, just maddenly out of his grasp.

"Why?" he hissed, tongue tasting blood as he spoke. Dante's own red-blue sheened blood ran over the blade's sharp edge as his twin attempted to hold the sword tip aloft from his stomach. His brother was stronger there was no doubting that…but he was still the disadvantaged one in this battle. Dante was still the one with everything to lose and nothing to gain. "_Why_?" he repeated again, his upper canines dug lightly into his bottom lip. To the question, Dante simply laughed. It was a cold laugh, one completely devoid of his usual mischievousness.

"You know, I never could figure you out Verg. It's not that I never accepted what I am." Dante's boots slid across the ground as he struggled to hold Yamoto at bay between his hands.

"Oh?" Vergil asked, raising an eyebrow. Slowly, so slowly, the blade was gaining momentum, gaining ground before the fatal blow. Even as close as he was to losing it all, Dante still grinned. If nothing else, Vergil could credit his twin with this: the idiot would grin even in death. It was an inborn quality he hated in Dante.

"Yeah," Dante replied, eyes narrowing. Both of Dante's hands were cut to the bone, the space between the sword tip and armor plated vest narrowed. Not that Dante's armor would stand a chance at this range.

"Ha," Vergil growled, eyes flickering a deeper shade of magenta. "Then by all means twin: _elaborate_."

**Trish**

The long shaft of the Sparda scythe tingled in her hands. The wraith stared up at her, unmoving and still on his knees. His black blood lay in a pool around him, clearly unable to die, yet also clearly dying. How was something so unnatural possible? He was silent as the large curved blade swept upwards, crackling with the demonness's energy. Sighing warily, Raziel closed his eyes. _Soon, I will be with you Loki._

"DANTE!" Trish bellowed at the top of her lungs. Eyes snapping open, Raziel blinked in surprise as a yellow blazon blade sailed past his face, never touching it. The sword left Trish's hands, churning end over end through the air as it boomeranged through the air.

"What!?" Rayne snapped, flexed hands clawing at empty air as the blade quickly sailed through the air.

"Bye, bye," Trish smirked to the wraith. With that, she brushed by, following the same path the Sparda sword had taken.

"What the hell just happened?" Lucia asked turning to Rayne.

"Exactly," Rayne retorted dryly.

**Dante**

He smirked at Vergil. The babe, he'd kiss her. Later. More than once, if he had any choice in the matter. Hell, he'd even go as far as to let her loose with a credit card. ….Okay, well maybe he wouldn't go that far, but she was still his babe. Growling, Vergil separated from his twin, allowing their father's sword to cleave through the space he had just been. Reaching a bloodied hand out, Dante grasped the hilt of the Sparda sword. Easily the blade came into his possession.

"Whaddya know? Christmas came early," Dante chuckled as the blade sank into it's usual one sword edged form. "I must have been a good boy this year."

"You grinning _imbecile_," Vergil retorted quietly. "_Answer_ _me_."

"I think I liked it better when you were dead," Dante commented, casually taking up a fighting stance.

"And you called me the bastard," Vergil snarled softly.

"Verggie if I gotta explain it to you, you're never gonna get it, you see?" Dante asked, simply shrugging. To that Vergil simply laughed a dry humorless bark.

"Very well Dante, rely on the soul arm of our father." Dark malevolent fire licked at his body once again. The change came quicker this time. It always seemed to come faster the more he used it. His voice sank into the growls of demonic tongues as he spoke, "Let's see how far it gets you."

**Raziel**

Uncomprehendingly he watched as the blond took off, heading towards the dueling half demons. What the hell….just happened?? Raziel felt a shuddering in his heart. Gasping raggedly he looked down at his chest. There sunken in the misshapen cavity that passed for a ribcage, lay a silver arm blade. He looked up to it's owner.

"Never say I didn't do you any favors," Rayne commented softly. "I knew who you were, even before you named yourself. I remember you." The arm blade twisted and rose, squelching in the black coagulated contaminants of the wraith's blood. Twisting her entire body, Rayne tore the blade free. Gasping in pain, the wraith fell forward, catching himself with an acid eaten arm. His other arm fell uselessly to the ground, severed from his body.

"You were the first attempt then, I take it," he coughed. His breath rattled in his throat. Rayne didn't bother to turn and face him as he fell to the ground in a fit of coughs, his strength finally failing him.

"I'll be waiting," Rayne replied, her voice completely devoid of the usual devious mockery it held. Rather it held the years of waiting, impatient, possible anticipation. Her words were the dusty epitome all vampires gained with time. "Whenever you come back, don't think you'll be able to leave this place alive with out my knowing it."

"I would never dream of such." Raziel gasped softly. The blackness of death was seeping into his vision. He almost imagined he could hear the rapids of the river Styx. "I thank you."

"Whatever," Rayne retorted flatly.

"I'm not even going to ask," Lucia commented, eyeing the dhampire. Mouth widening into a deadly grin, Rayne crossed her arms.

"Smart decision. Do us favor, go baby-sit the human's corpse for a while would you sweetblood?"

"Excuse me?" Lucia asked.

"I'll stop taking blood donations from you," Rayne commented sweetly, her mouth sanguine under the full red moon. Scowling, Lucia reached for several throwing daggers.

"You owe me one, dhampire."


	117. Finding Direction

Alright, so this isn't much in the way of actual fighting, but it's another one of those fog lifters. (Maybe? Hopefully?) Meh. Enjoy.

* * *

**Lauren**

Dominique's eyes dimmed slightly as she studied me, her short curly blond hair framed her face. She was wearing the red scarf Sion and I had gotten her for a birthday present.

"Yes honey, I'm dead. I don't think you ever forgot. And I'm sorry," Dominique said, her voice soft. Her arms circled around me in a tight hug. They made a smaller circle than I remembered. "I'm sorry I wasn't stronger and I'm sorry I let you suffer alone. You must have been so sad when we both left you." When they both _left_? She made it sound like they had gone on a trip and forgotten to return…then again, for all I know, that's what death really is.

"If you're dead, then I am too?" I asked. It was a stupid question and I knew it. I knew Aaron and Marcus were dead. Just as Tiffany, Josh, and Sion were dead. I wonder does that mean Lady Mary is dead too? My voice was more calm than I thought could be possible. Dominique sighed quietly. Mentally, I braced myself, even though a part of me already knew what was coming. There was no way…not even a miracle…nothing could have fixed what Vergil did to me. Not with what I had seen him do using his precious sword before.

"Yes," she whispered quietly. Shockingly, it didn't surprise me. Hell, I guess after seeing my sister painted on a wall and having the only person I've seriously trusted in the last three years literally stab me in the back-okay so it was technically the front-I guess there's only so much you can feel before you can't feel it anymore. He stabbed me. I died from a frickn' stab wound. Pathetic. I always thought I'd go out a little bit faster, maybe even bit flashier than that. Like with an explosion or sudden car accident or something. But bleeding to death from a stab wound? Given to me by _him_ of all people. Geez. Et tu, Brutus? Great. Peachy. Fantabulous. I'm dead. Silently I shake my head.

"Whatever," I sigh. Honestly. I don't think I care anymore. Alive, dead, whatever, life in general just sucks. You'd think there'd at least be a cigarette vendor or something. This being dead thing, it's kinda putting a damper on my smoking habit. "There wouldn't happen to be a cigarette vending machine around here or something?" I ask warily.

"Huh?" Dominique asks, somewhat surprised. She draws back slightly. "You smoke?" Ever since you died on me mom. I wanna say it, but I don't. It's not fair to Dominique. She really wouldn't have been able to survive with out Sion, I have to believe that, despite what she's just said. I have to believe she needed him more than she needed us. And that, maybe, Sion needed her just as much. Some people have selective hearing; I'm going to opt to use it at this point. I snort and shake my head again.

"Here." A small white familiar looking carton lands in front of me. I look up to Aaron. Hairless cats, I think he's a saint in disguise. Since when does he? "You left them behind," Aaron shrugs at my questioning look. "The last time you left Pandora's."

"The time I cut up Linda's face?" I ask dully, as I reach for the carton. Aaron chuckles.

"Yep. She was really pissed about that you know? You should have seen all the spells, surgeries, and make up she used to make the scars go away." I laugh then. The idea of Linda sitting in front of a mirror caking her ugly face with pounds of concealer and foundation…here of all places…it's so…_stupid_. Linda would do something like that.

"No kidding." I pull out a white cancer stick and stick it between my lips where it belongs. "Got a lighter?"

"Somewhere," Aaron replies, patting his pockets. While he's searching I rise to me feet and turn to help Dominique up. The demon and Trish-not Trish watch me silently as I light up. The first intake burns down my throat like aged vodka. The second breath leaves everything numb. Good. I don't think I could take anything other than that. Wrinkling her nose, Dominique backs up, returning to Sion's side while waving the cloud of smoke away.

"I don't think this is a healthy habit, honey," Dominique stares. Like you were there to give a fuck for three years mom. What's _wrong_ with me? I should be grateful I even get to see her.

"You said the same thing about her fighting," Sion chides her gently, speaking for the first time. His voice is the soft rumble it always was. "You didn't complain so much when it kept her alive and sane." His mouth forms a vague hint of a smile. I don't have the heart to return it.

God I missed him and mom so much. I missed Tiffany, Josh, and Lady Mary. I miss Fate and Aaron and Marcus. I miss feeling like I have a destination in this life, like at some point in my fucking miserable life I had a purpose greater than simply scraping by and surviving by the skin of my knuckles. I don't know what to call this feeling, but it's there all the same.

Even now, with everyone who's ever mattered here for me, it's like there's an aching hole in the middle of my guts. I wanna tell Sion about it. I wanna tell everyone how much I missed them, how much I missed all of them. I wanna tell them that I still blame them for leaving me all alone in this fucked up world. More than anything, I never want them to leave me so alone again.

But I don't say that. I don't think I could. It's a selfish thought, I guess. These people, I'm just a part of their memories. Just they are fragments of mine. They don't owe me shit. Whatever there was, whatever has been, we are all dead. The events that have occurred up to this point are nothing more than forgotten moments in time. I never thought my life would come to this. As much as I've missed my family, I don't know if I can stand being around them for much longer. I love them, but I don't think being around them again…well, things will never be the same. I've grown too much. I've changed too much in their absence. I'm not who I was three years ago. I'm not even the same person I was earlier this night. I don't think I'd recognize my own reflection any more. Then again, what the hell do I know? I shrug.

"Minus the 'alive' part," I comment to Sion's quiet, small smile. "Now what?" I ask, turning to the demon. I rake a hand through my hair. I'll never get a rest from this demonic shit. Just another benefit of this oh _sooooo_ wonderful 'partnership'. "You wanted me to wake up. What's that about?"

"After a fashion, one could say you are dreaming," The woman began after a pause. "It is important that you wake up." Yeah, lady, no duh. What's the catch? With your family, there's always a hitch of some kind. I can't _believe_ I trusted him. I should've known better.

"And if I do? What happens to them?" I nod to my family and the few people I ever trusted enough to call 'friend'. Especially since the whole definition of the word 'friend' has kinda changed slightly in the last half an hour or so.

"They will remain here with you until you have no further use of them," the woman replies patiently. I snort.

"They're my family. I'll always have a use for them. That aside, where do they go? Where is here?"

"I can't explain that which we, as the ungodly, may never know." The lady replies solemnly. Okay…so that was just a really round about way for her to say, 'sorry babe, can't tell you anything'. What's up with the formal way of talking? "But as your mother said," she continues, nodding to me. "You may call me Eva. You've met my husband." Oh yes, I've met big, tall, and familiar. The demon regards me quietly, not bothering to introduce himself. Fine…so the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree. I take it the scary look he's wearing means not participating in this little event isn't exactly an option.

"Yeah," I retort flatly, sizing them both up. I pause for a moment, considering. "The name's Lor." And please, for the love of hell, don't call me anything other than that. "What do we do now?"

"After you awaken, we are to take you to the mistress of Death," The demon replies, his low voice growling. His eyes are cerulean pools in the darkness of the dance floor as he stares at me. A part of me wants to poke him in the eye so he'll stop staring at me. The other part of me wants to curl up in the fetal position and fall into the oblivion of sleep for a couple of years. If only I had my teddy bear, we'd slay pink elephants and cotton candy sales men at make-believe carnivals.

"Then let's get this joy ride over with," I sigh, pushing the cig back and fourth with my tongue. Mistress of death huh? I can hardly wait.

**Raziel**

He was falling. The sensation had nauseated him at first, before he'd learned to control it, or at the very least ignore it. Slowly vision came back to him, the scattered remnants of the barrier shuddered as he blinked, feet unsteady on the shaking ground beneath his feet. Before him the checkered tiling of the ground lay scattered and incomplete. Several tiles lay cracked, even more were missing completely. The marble pillars of the place were cracked as well, to the point where great chunks of pillar lay crumbled on the floor. The red haze that served as the walls of the great expanse shuddered. The grand baby piano that had stood near his mother's throne was missing a leg. The bench was gone and large holes-as if the wood of the instrument had a case of termites-were drilled all through out the piano's body.

"My son," Satan's voice was weak. She sat in her throne, slouched weakly against the hard stone.

"She's coming." He did not have to refer to whom he spoke of. Vali's aura was all too evident within the room.

"Yes," Satan agreed, a sad rueful grin on her beautiful face. Her violet eyes took in her son. "The key was murdered?" Raziel nodded.

"She was sent to Loki by the hands of a half breed. I am to escort her back to life." Satan chuckled.

"You would need your old power, if you would attempt as much. Even through out the centuries you've barely regained a semblance of what you once were. It took so long to nurse you back from a soul arm."

"I would try all the same," Raziel retorted seriously. "I would not hand over the reign of all creation Vali so easily. Nor to our father whom she thinks she can control."

"Oh but she can," Satan sighed. "Did you never learn of how Vali became the Angel of Chaos? She was corrupted by your father." Pain flickered through the ancient mother's eyes. "I lived so long in denial…it took many eons simply lingering here, contemplating what had gone wrong. I wondered if in some way, I had missed the signs…I must have. I am a horrible mother, for a goddess," Satan chuckled ruefully.

"I never thought so," Raziel commented. "There is little even we can do, to stem an onslaught so completely. We were made to manipulate, not control, those beings who possessed such shorter life spans than our own. You said as much."

"Did I? Perhaps this is true. Yet we have failed. Miserably. Back then, I had hoped, prayed-if things such as us can pray-that your father would cease his dalliance with Vali. I knew what he did to our child, showing her the blood and suffering of so many other creatures, teaching her to glory in her superiority, and the belief of our infallible status as 'gods'. I turned a blind eye to it. Vali's destiny has always lain hand in hand with insanity. How could she not fall into that which she was? Even Loki fell into her realms after the war.'

However, I never knew of madness that drove your father's actions, of the alter ego which would come to be the rule hell, until too late. I never believed, as the sole manipulator of the realm of the living, that my husband would go so far as to provoke an inter-racial war of such a magnitude. For his own entertainment none the less. The truths of this world are all but forgotten, save by those of our family. So many human wars fought over good and evil, right and wrong, and all the time, Gabriel played as both God and Devil."

"I will go anyways. Though I am no longer an angel, I will fulfill my destiny. I have never forgotten my purpose." Raziel bowed his head. "Loki needs me. Even now, Vali seeks the rest of your power. She absorbing the barriers you placed between the human realms and heaven. She seeks the end of your life I believe."

"That which remains of it, it murdered me to erect the barrier. Only by Loki's grace do I remain here. But what of hell? Was that not separated from the humans as well? Did my death do so little?"

"Loki aided a demon in constructing a barrier between hell and the human world. When Vali fell after Father's entrapment, she fell into the infernos. I don't doubt that she may have manipulated even that to her advantage."

"Very well," Satan sighed warily. "I've heard enough. Have I completely taken leave of my senses? I thought I manipulated things for the best. I can see I am clearly not the goddess I once was."

"As you wish," Raziel bowed to his mother for a final time. "I must go. I haven't the power to stop Vali when she arrives here. Though the chance is slim, I believe Loki's plan may work. I believe we can salvage this world. Good bye mother." Silently, Raziel turned around, summoning the necessary energy to complete the transition from life to death. He could feel Vali's approach as she relentlessly battered the barrier, the feel of her aura and the smell of her scent was almost a palpable thing.

"How will you guide humanity if you are naught but a wraith?" Satan asked weakly. Dry humor entered her voice and she was smirking slightly when Raziel turned to her again. "Allow me a last penitence. I would restore your soul and nourish it with the remnants of my power."

"That would kill you," Raziel replied quietly. "You should know better, goddess and angel of wisdom." To that Satan simply laughed.

"I would give my youngest daughter a final lesson in death. You will be all that remains to guide humanity after all is said and done. Do not fail me, Raziel. Though the hope is slim, I too remember our purpose. We were to help the humans to a greater existence so they might one day gain the knowledge and respect of those other kin races. It was my dream, once, to have a world devoid of suffering. For a goddess of wisdom, I was foolish, mores the pity, I still am.'

However, I understand now, that progress can only be marked by suffering. I charge you this: allow humans and their immortal counterparts to war as they would, let them carve their own bloody destiny through time as they would. I ask simply that each single race acknowledge their peers. That this veil of secrecy and hate fall away to understanding, if nothing else, this is your final task as a member of our great family. Now come, I have no more to teach you and time is running short."

Raziel approached the throne and knelt.

"I won't fail you," he whispered, white flame flickering as they watching her beautiful face.

"I know," Satan replied, red curly hair falling into her laughing eyes. They glowed with an inner lavender color as she summed the last of her power. "I know."


	118. Falling Awake

More stuffs! Slight crossover, mentioned chiefly in passing, credit to Capcom who owns Chaos Legion. I don't own it. I just use it for my many dark and evil purposes. Enjoy!

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**Vergil**

Sparda cleaved the ground as he leapt skywards, tearing hellish fires through the frost licked, weed eaten earth. Between the licking tips of the orange wall of flames, Dante emerged, Sparda sword held high as he charged relentlessly. Turning to face his brother, the wind howling around them as Vergil held the great broad sword in check with the slightest turn of hand. The pummel of yamoto was all that stopped the great blade's decent. Still smirking, Dante fell back through the air with the recoil of the blade, his demonic blood rising hot yet again.

"You _are_ enjoying it," Vergil growled, a sudden low grin stretching his mouth as he glared at his twin. "So much for your precious humanity, you're a killer after all."

"I enjoy beating your sorry ass," Dante retorted. "Being a killer has nothing to do with it." Yamoto clashed against the Sparda scythe's edge, metal screaming, as Vergil was thrown earth bound by the weight of the blade. He landed on his feet, if barely, kneeling. Dante landed before him. The condescending…he'd done more than his fare share of kneeling over the years… "C'mon," Dante roared, waiting expectantly as he rose to his feet. The sword of their father shone bright in the light of the moon as the final assault began.

Above them, in the snow and the lighting and the haze of the red blood lighted sky, Vali continued to absorb the power of the barrier. Already a gaping hole of white light had opened, eclipsing the blooded moon. In the middle of the great circle, black skeletal wings grew in width and luster as frenzied, hysterical laughter rolled from her tongue. Clashing once again, the blades held. Neither of the sons of Sparda could have cared less what the hell queen was up to. Steel ground against steel, sparks flying through the snow and the rain and the blood and the sweat . They were so close, their foreheads nearly touching, their breaths nothing more than panted intakes of element chilled air. Neither said anything now.

Was that the answer? Did a killer's instinct truly play no part at all in it? At all? That was no answer. That was a paradox. He wouldn't lose to his twin. He couldn't. He _refused_ to. Memories played over and over in the back of his mind. Things said, things left unsaid, and still neither of them relented, both of them unwilling to give up further ground. Lightning cracked, streaking across the sky, lighting the world brilliantly for a moment. Neither released their hold upon their respective weapons as electricity drove through metal, leaping to their persons and back again to the metal of the weapons. Mercury white and inhumanly azure eyes stared into their mirror counterparts. Vergil narrowed his eyes as he felt the last of the numbing jolts echo through out the air, water, and ground around them. He wouldn't lose. Not again. Not until he was satisfied with the answer.

**Lauren**

It was easy and hard, waking up. I just blinked and I was awake. Falling awake made my ears pop. Déjà vu, right? It was like the time Vergil decided to take little unauthorized peek into my memories. With a single blink the comforting darkness of Fate disappeared. The music I've grown up with silenced. What I opened my eyes to…well, to say the least…it was unexpected. Not that a huge wasteland of death and despair phased me.

A gothic cathedral, with twisted fairy tale turrets rose from the black earth. It was encircled by warped lifeless trees was just visible through the murky enshrouding fog. If I didn't know any better, I don't almost say the bare tree branches looked like hands clawing the bleak, grayish sky. What a piece of work. The castle think was even surrounded by a mote. It like someone's taken every fairy tale and made it darkly perverse in every sense conceivable. Not only that, but we also had to cross a serious piece-of-work bridge over the foulest, green-black water I've ever seen. Shock and Awe galore, the bridge looked like huge fossilized bones had been stuck together. Gotta say, I'm a little intrigued by the skeletal dead motif of the place. Everything here is dead. The trees, the ground, even the air is stale.

But that's not important. What's important is this: my family is no where to be seen. Its just me and the dead half of the Sparda family. Goddammit.

"Where's my family?" I demanded, ignoring the building of doom for a moment as I turned to the demon and Eva. The demon was wearing his more normal skin, which is to say he looked like the thing that lived under the bed. Eva regarded me for a moment with quizzical eyes.

"Don't you know? They are with you where ever you go."

"I didn't ask for a philosophical dissertation," I snapped. I swept an arm out, it include the dead everything. "Where the _hell_ is my family?"

"Here," Eva gently touched the space above my heart with her fingertips as she came forward. "And here." She touched the middle of my forehead, her fingers warm. "They are in your memories."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked flatly. That's cheesy. More so than a Disney sing-a-long.

"No," she replied, her eyes losing some of their seriousness, "Why would one jest of a universal truth?" Turning she gestured towards the cathedral. "Come, we have a ways to go. It's not safe to linger." Silently, the demon brushed by, leaving the two of us to follow him. Geezus Christ, the bridge itself had to be half a mile long. Quiet now, Eva followed the demon. I sighed, scowling at their retreating figures. If I didn't get a move on they'll leave me here to rot. Some guides. Strange enough, in this fog, I don't want to know whatever it is that might make 'lingering' dangerous. What ever. As long as it doesn't eat cigs I'm alright. How can you die when you're already dead? Dropping my cigarette and grinding it out, I followed them.

**Vali**

Her hair was like the coiling metal she treasured so much. Red black scrollings flickered in her skin. She laughed, feeling the embrace of her father run rampant through her blood. Like a fine wine the soft humming sensation of raw unbridled power brought her closer to the precipice than even she had ever been. Angel of Chaos they had called her once. Whore daughter of a whore mother, mania, the unfathomable mistress to countless angels and demons alike, her whims were obeyed and her desires almost always satiated, with a little prodding and manipulation of course.

Hadn't she told Yanos? Hadn't he known all along? She had felt his panicked realization, she had felt that fear in the core of his very soul. Just as she could feel so many other souls now. So many. There were so many. The world was teeming with life. All the worlds were. And they would serve her. She was a Goddess! She would be served! But first, her whore mother, the one who's reputation alone had cast her to the fires of the hell and into the hands of demons and other foul beings. She would make her mother grovel at her feet. And then when Mother was gone….there would only be one more left of the family before she would reign supreme. The half breeds would be nothing more than flies compared to the power she would gain. And they would be killed just as easily as flies.

Yes, it was mother's turn to suffer. Both her and daddy wanted it. Wanted her mother's blood, wanted to watch her cry and plead. Wanted to watch as they wrung the last ounce of life from her broken body. And the battle Satan would put up, the half dead sorceress that she was, this would be fun. Oh yes, oh yes! Vali could feel the barriers between true heaven and earth breaking beneath her resolved iron will and her power. It was crumbling, eroding, it would be gone and then…then they would slaughter the bitch before moving on to Loki. The races of the worlds would serve them until the sun fell into the sea.

**Lauren**

The demon came to a halt suddenly, raising his head slightly and staring off somewhere into the distant fog. What the hell…is something coming? His hand went to the pommel of the sword at his back. Wait a minute…the steel beam of death he just unsheathed looked pretty damn familiar. It was Trish's sword, the one huge gnarled one with the ginormous red gem in it.

Hissing quietly under her breath, Eva drew a symbol in the air with her forefinger. It was like she was using blitz. The symbol, whatever the hell it stood for, lingered in the air for a moment, glowing with a purple blue light before it disappeared. You'd think with all the weird shit I've seen, floating archaic signs would be normal. Yeah right. A second later a large purple blue circle traced the ground around us. It was like fey constriction ring. Only it wasn't getting any smaller, small favor.

"What's going on?" I asked warily. I can't sense anything in the fog, nothing demonic, nothing angelic, and certainly nothing human. That doesn't change the fact however, that something is, in fact, coming. Devil man and Eva wouldn't be getting their knickers in a twist if there wasn't something up. I don't even have Agni or Rudra here.

"Haunts," the demon growled, his sword held loosely in his hand. He turned to face the direction we had just come from, the blackness of his shadow licking at his person. No question about it. His sword was definitely the same one as Trish's. Okay…so what does that mean? Are there two different Sparda swords? One here and one on earth?

"Haunts?" I asked. "You mean like the boogie man." And you're going to beat them down with the mirror image blade of Trish's sword. Great.

"The boogie man doesn't eat souls," Eva commented calmly. Her hands are glowing with the same purple blue energy of the circle. Just a whiff of it quickens my heart beat. The veins in her arms…especially the veins in her wrists, they look exactly like mine did, once upon a time. Only when I blitzed my veins usually turned a color of green just shy of nuclear waste.

"No one ever mentioned Vergil's mommy used fey magic," I commented, watching her. Her hands were folded, held at her breast. Her head was bowed as if she was concentrating on something. Nothing about Eva says fey. Not her aura, she doesn't have the scarring that would accompany that kind of blitz addiction. Is she seriously using magic all on her own? That's rare. Really rare. Is she a clairvoyant or something?

"I was a maiden of the silver," Eva replied, looking slightly surprised. She let her hands drop to her sides. "I was trained by the Order of Saint Ovaria. The Order meant to be a safe guard the world from evil."

"Yeah, that's nice." The last thing is another frickn' story. Every one has one, so why the hell should I care what she has to say? No one gives a shit about anything but themselves, that's the way the world works. I know this, or at least I should've known that. I shoulda skipped town the first time I laid eyes on Vergil. Why the _hell_ did I trust him? Sighing I took a seat on the ground. Whatever was coming was taking its sweet time. I reached for the cigs Aaron gave me.

"I was never a fool to make friends of the fey," Eva said as she watched me. I make an uncommitted sound in the back of my throat as I look for a lighter. If I took the cigs, why didn't I take Aaron's lighter too? Eva snapped her fingers, bending down. I glanced up at her only to see a pale blue-violet flame dancing on her index finger. I snort, but take the light. Tiffany used to do that, whenever I needed a lit. She'd laughed, tell me I was killing myself, and snap her fingers. Presto, flam-o-matic and I got a smoke.

"That makes you smarter than me," I replied ruefully as I swallowed sweet sour fumes. I glance over to the demon. He still standing on guard, waiting for whatever it is to find us. I can't feel anything out there. All I hear is the river rapids below us.

"You do not strike me as fool," Eva said gently, taking a seat next to me. What is this, another pity offering? She gently folds her dress beneath herself, smoothing it out. Her hair is so long it brushes the ground.

"You'd think," I replied, sucking on my cig. Why are these two going to lengths to that cathedral? Who are going to see anyways? Who names themselves 'mistress death'? "Yo Lancelot," I called over to the demon, "anything there?"

"Be patient," he growled back, not bothering to turn around. Okay. Whatever. Rolling my eyes I concentrate on my cig. Lady Eva chuckled.

"You remind me of my sons." I stare at her flatly. Wonderful. A dead 'maiden of the silver'-whatever that is-just compared me to prick who killed me in the first place.

"Call me a bitch, but I'd rather not do the whole let's-get-to-know-each-other thing."

"You're bitter," Eva laughs. "How did the world make something as young as you so cold?" Me? Young? Why don't you take a look in the mirror lady.

"You have no idea," I growl. Eva's laughter sounds so petite and feminine I could kick her.

"You're not very even tempered, are you?" She asks, still laughing.

"Any reason I should be?" I retort. If I told you how I got here lady, I bet you'd shut up pretty fucking fast. Sighing I rise to my feet. "Hey demon!" I shout, "This is so damn stupid, you know that!?" I just wanna get to where ever it is you idiots are carting me off to, so I can do whatever it is you people want me to do, so that way maybe your stupid family will leave me the hell alone. The demon turns to stare at me over his shoulder as I spin on my heel and stalk off in the direction we were going before we stopped. I don't think I can take sitting still right now. Silently I dare him to try and stop me. Anything to give me an excuse to try and hit him again.

**Eva**

Silently, Sparda raised an eyebrow as the fragment stalked off with out a further word. One didn't need to be a mind reader to understand the source of his annoyance.

"I'll go with her," She commented, rising to her feet.

"She's more stubborn than a fragment ought to be," Sparda commented as his wife approached him.

"She's human." Eva shrugged.

"She shouldn't be," he replied. "There are three haunts trailing us. I'll deal with them and meet you at Loki's dwelling place."

"Of course," Eva said. Haunts weren't terribly difficult to subdue, however they did take a great amount of effort to stun. Easily she rose to her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. "Be careful my love." Not bothering to wait for a reply, Eva turned to follow the quickly disappearing figure of the fragment. Sparda waited until he could no longer see Eva through the fog before turning to face the approaching haunts.

They loomed before him, those dead souls unable to find their way to a true rest or a new life. A smirk revealed sharp canines as the dark knight drew forth his sword. He would deal with this issue quickly.


	119. Blood Oath

Another slight cross over mentioned in passing (again, heck, maybe i should start to keep a tally or somthing...). This time it's from a book triliogy by Garth Nix. The books are called Sabriel, Lirial and Abhorsen (I think I spelled that right), I recommend them for a good fantasy read. Let me know if anything seems a bit OOC, m'kay? Enjoy!

* * *

**Lauren**

We made it, finally. The cathedral was huge up close and personal. Black dead vines crawled up the black marble columns and brick sides of the entry way like leaches. The doors loomed in front of Eva and I like the gate way to hell. Wrought iron crossed over ebony wood. There were no handles on the heavy doors. A dark tremor trickled through my stomach. I killed it, sucking on my cig.

"Nice doors," I commented dryly. Dark silver markings flowed over the ebony wood. It was a barrier...kinda like the one Cerberious put in my apartment door. I let smoke coil out of my nose as I blew out, thinking. "How do we get past that?"

"One only needs to know how to use the spare key," Eva replied.

"So you wanna whip out this thingy-ma-bob sometime soon?" I asked dryly.

"You really are impatient," Eva retorted, sighing. Gently she reached out, running a hand over the rough wood. The purple blue magic lit up her skin as it flowed to the door. Eva's magic crackled like livewires as it came into contact with the door's barrier. Slowly, the blue indigo flames licked at the barrier shattering it like a mirror. Eva never drew her hand away. She kept feeding energy to the barrier until it broke completely. Small silver fragments of it fell to our feet, collecting into small dark puddles before evaporating with a hiss. Sighing again, Eva lowered her hand, letting it drop to her side. She wasn't making a big deal about it, but the flesh on her palm looked raw. Maybe even cut.

"The door is unlocked, you only need enter now. The Death Mistress is waiting for you." And she was right, the door silently swung open a couple of inches, revealing nothing but blackness inside. The silence inside the doors beckoned. Yeah right, is stupid written on my forehead? Why don't you ask me to hang myself too, while you're at it? It doesn't take a genius. Why does she want me in that building so bad? This damn family and their damn strings…humans are flawed. She has alternative motives for getting me in there, and I want to know them. Hell, I think I deserve to know them. I ain't going in until I have an answer.

That aside, Eva looked like she was going to pull a Victorian era thing on me and faint. I was half-right. A moment latter, she slowly sank into a kneel using the arching entryway wall for support. Her red black skirt fell about her in a fan as blood slowly drained from her face. She was going white a sheet. Dammit. I never asked this woman for her help. If it was going to cost her so much she shoulda waited until her demon got here.

"What the hell's wrong with you? Did you run out of blitz juice already?" I demanded, squatting down beside her. "Addiction really isn't a healthy habit." I would know.

"I told you, I was no fool," Eva growled, her sky blue eyes flashing, "to make a friend of the fey. I am a maiden of the silver."

"And I'm santa's little helper," I growled back. "Why the hell do you want me to go in there so bad?" Eva eyed me for a moment, before speaking.

"You are already dead, why should you care what lies in there? Nothing can harm you."

"Says the dead woman who looks ready to vomit. I'm gonna ask you nicely one more time: why do you want me to go in there?" The next thing I know the barrel of a familiar looking silver gun was kissing the space between my eyebrows. The gun clicked as she drew back the hammer.

"I too am tired of asking. I have lived as I died," Eva replied calmly, "and though the consequences would be high should I pull the trigger, I would do so with no regrets. Knowing I had freed my loved ones from Loki's damned blood oath. You are trying even my patience, Lor. In the name of the god bastard long dead and those insane fools yet to be born, _go through those doors_." I stared at her blankly. Eva's arm wavered slightly as she gave me a hard stare from behind her gun. Apparently, using magic with out the help of blitz is very demanding. Not to mention she just gave me one hell of a reason to pick a fight with her. Not that I wasn't planning to already.

"Excuse me?" I retorted, backhanding her gun out of my face. Eva's eyes widened, slightly surprised for a moment, before she regained her internal balance. The silver gun clatter against the ground as it fell out of her reach. "What the hell are you talking about? What blood oath?"

"You," Eva hissed. Her face was still pale, though believe it or not, I think its pale 'cuz she's really pissed at the moment. "You're her damned fragment. You're not human. _Damn you_ for not understanding! How can something like you not understand? You are murdering my family."

**Sparda**

The ghost blade hissed as it cut through the leathery flesh of the haunt. This ghost had been a necromancer in its past life. The heavy bandolier of bells-the physical embodiment of its payment sin-hung from its withered, skeletal frame, keeping it firmly weighted in the wastelands of death. It was the last one. The other two haunts had slithered off, having lost enough energy to know a lost battle when they were in one.

Sparda eased back, allowing his foe to stagger to its clawed, monstrous feet. This one was far larger than the other two. For a moment the dark knight wondered if it was possible for haunts to breed. He dismissed the thought as the haunt rose, it'\s paper like skin crackling as it stretched to fit over near dead withered bones and muscles.

-_Give me your soul_ – The haunts voice rumbled, echoing that of a human man's voice, who had long since died for his dark purposes and still never learned a thing. Only those with unfulfilled debts, those souls lost to insanity or sin, wandered the wastelands. Very rarely were demons and angels found in this part of death, as most demons and angels served their cause with every breath they took. Most otherkin species, after death, went directly to oblivion simply because they never questioned their nature or their purpose of existence. Demons and angles alike, were born inherently knowing their purpose. Or that was the way it used to be. The dark knight simply laughed.

"Come and try your hand, pathetic mortal. You are slave to your sins even in death." Screeching the haunt reared, lunging. It's hooked claws-a mockery of the human hands they sought to represent-flickered. They were as grey as the rest of the creature's non-descript body. All haunts looked similar after a while. The only difference was the physical embodiment of the sin that kept them from moving on to Oblivion or reincarnation.

The ghost sword flashed in the cold fog only once. The haunt fell to the ground, it's paper skin crumbling into the ashes and then to dust. Sparda watched as the dust was lifted by the wind and swept away. There was no need to linger here. He could feel Eva. She was in distress. As much as she ever had been before drawing her guns, in any case.

Turning, Sparda took up the bridge once again. Time was wasting.

**Eva**

The fragment's face went slack as it studied her. Yellow eyes were blank, blinking for a moment before black scrollings flickered across the being's face. Two black archaic lines fell down it's cheeks to it's oh-so-human-like jaw bone. They could have black tears were they not etched into her skin. The scrollings made the fragment look more bestial by far. Warily, Eva braced herself. She had been warned of the fragment's power and she was past caring.

"_What_?" the fragment growled, eyes flashing. Silently, Eva continued to watch the fragment. "Let's get one thing strait, _Lady_," the fragment hissed, both of its hands clenching the fabric her dress front. Effortlessly, the fragment rose, dragging her to her feet and past that. Its arms were completely covered in dark scrollings as it held her above its head. The wind kissed her heels gently as the fragment glared at her. She had been right, this wasn't an even tempered being.

"Are you fucking listening to me? Because I'm only going to say this once. You're fucking oh-so-goddamn-precious son was the one who _murdered_ me. I've never seen you my entire life. As it is, I don't give a _fuck_ about you or your family. In fact, I'm sick of you people. Do you get that? Do you understand? I don't give a flying fuck about you."

"Something like you couldn't care about another's family." Eva hissed back, her hands clenched around the other's wrists. Summoning the last of her reserves, Eva's hands flared blue purple. The smell of burning flesh reached her nose before the fragment flung her away. The wind was knocked from her lungs, as Eva fell against the entry way once again. The marble was cold and slick as ice against her back. "You who never had a family could ever understand. My family, I care about my family. I would sacrifice you for our freedom." The fragment glared at her through ragged bangs as it held its burnt wrists, yellow irises flickered opaque white for a moment.

"Family?" The fragment growled, the scrollings livid in its skin. "I had a family. I had a life. You people, and your fucking problems, took all that away. I'm not supposed to be _dead_."

"Ha!" Eva barked. "Family? Life? You are a fragment of _death_. You destroy everything you touch." The fragment's mouth dropped open, though no words came out. The scrollings faded and the fragment's eyes dropped to its wrists, it's mouth shutting. "Everything you come into contact with suffers," Eva continued angrily. "How can you-"

"That's enough Eva." The demon's voice was deep but carried. Startled Eva, looked over the foot of the bridge. "You've said too much, perhaps," Sparda added after a moment's consideration. He came forward, drawing Eva near and supporting her.

"This can't go on," Eva gasped, lowering her head until it rested against the demon's shoulder. To that the demon simply chuckled.

"You're impatient," Sparda laughed. "Typical female. You," he glanced over to the fragment. "Are you ready?"

"What the fuck do you care?' it asked lowly, its head bowed as it stared at its burnt wrists. The fragment let its hands drop to its sides before roughly kicking at the front doors of the cathedral, making them swing open. The silence hovered, beckoning.

"Are you aware, once you enter this place, you may not leave the same way?" Sparda asked. The fragment didn't pause as it walked through the door, save to extend the middle finger over its shoulder before completely disappearing altogether in the still quiet of the blackness.

**Lauren**

'You destroy everything you touch.' Was she right? What difference did it make, anyways? It was so quiet in the cathedral. Nothing moved, like the very air itself was wating to breath. The feeling was worse in here than it was outside. Was this what death was supposed to feel like? Only the sound of my boots carried in this place.

_Ah, so you've come at last. Welcome home, daughter._

"I'm not your fucking daughter," I hissed to the quiet stillness. "I don't have a family."

_Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that I was the one who provided you with your genetics. I must confess, I always did want a daughter of my own. Ironically enough, no life may spring from one of the dead. It is a universal law._

"Why am I here and what do you want?" I ask flatly, coming to a halt. "I'm sick of games. I'm sick of lies. And I am sick of people telling me what to do and where to go. Just tell me what you want."

_Blunt, as most fragments are. You are also inquisitive. You will serve my needs wonderfully. Listen little child-fragment of mine. I would tell you a story, should you desire to listen._

"Whatever," I sigh.

_Very well. What I am about to show you is a memory. My memory. As I understand, you came into contact with a certain half breed, a man who was neither human nor demon, but both._

"Yeah, what about it?" I snapped.

_Watch…._

Through the darkness I could see a woman, sitting patiently in an ebony throne. She had my eyes (_my_ eyes!) and my hair. Though to be honest, her hair was a lot longer than mine's ever been. (What is this?) The woman smiled, her mouth tortuous as a snake's curling grin. At her side, milky, opaque scrollings flickered across the bright silver edge of the sickle. It leaned carelessly against her throne, the dark gold silk of her dress brushed against it every so often. Dear god…I could be this chick…except for the hair. (Who is she? Is she the death mistress?)

_Will you partake in the blood pack, dark knight? _Her voice was deep but soft, distinctly feminine. Not my voice. She spoke to someone standing before her. He stood, wrapped in shadows, the ghost of demon, even less remained of his humanity-it had been buried for so long. (How I do I know this? Who is that?) His eyes were red as he silently glowered at the queen of death. _Your father did not hesitate to destroy those foolish creatures who assumed him to be dead. As he lay lingering between this world and the last, he willingly agreed to enter the blood pack and destroy the very same demon that so haphazardly destroyed your family. The same being that murdered your mother and tortured you relentlessly throughout your stay in the infernos._ The death mistress narrowed her eyes at the silent ghost. _You are half demon yet, I will offer you the same choice that I offered your father. Do my bidding for a time and I will restore life to you. Do you not desire retribution against the one whom murdered you?_ Still the demon remained silent, his grip unwavering on the pommel of his blade. The harsh, thornéd knuckles of his armored gauntlets proclaimed of the brutality he had endured and consequently, of the skills he had mastered while in servitude to a monster worse than himself. (Was that? No _way_…that couldn't be…could it? ) For a moment neither of them spoke.

**And if I don't desire revenge?** The Halfling finally said his voice gruff from years of disuse. He spoke the most archaic of demon tongues fluently.

_Then you are not half the demon I assumed you to be_. The death goddess shrugged. _It matters little. Betrayal runs in your blood Halfling. Why would you hesitate? _The Halfling seemed to gather himself, his hand tightening on the pommel of his blade.

_I wouldn't if I were you._ The death goddess commented coldly, the amusement still glittering in the depths of her eyes. _Perhaps you don't fully grasp the situation, halfbreed. You're family is indebted to me. I own the soul of he who made the original blood pack. As I own the souls of all those who carry that demon's blood. Should you choose to refuse my offer, understand it will not be offered again. When the rest of your kin and kith die, their souls, likewise, will forever belong to me. _The demon growled lowly in his throat, red eyes flashing._ Even you can understand, hovering over the precept to oblivion as you are, the repercussions of your actions. Such was the nature of the blood pack your father entered. I would ask you again: will you partake in the blood pack, dark knight? _With that, Loki fell silent. Patiently she waited as the shadow before her considered, knowing a favorable answer encroached. (Not possible…he couldn't be dead…I saw him, I touched him, I spoke with him…he wasn't dead….he _couldn't_ be…)

**Very well. I accept the blood pack. I am yours death goddess. Ask of me what you would.** At that the woman laughed. Her laughter resounded. The acoustics of the old cathedral echoed the sound, until it seemed to carry a life of its own. Laughter dying, Loki regarded the tattered knight before her, a mischievous, calculating light in her eyes. Chuckling, she rose from her throne, her gaze never leaving that of the dark knight before her.

_Excellent. Very well, come with me. Time is wasting. Complete this task and I swear, your family will be free of the blood debt._

Whatever it was, ended then, leaving me alone in the darkness of the place. Oh my god. Blood pack. 'If you wish, consider this to be a business proposal of sorts, your life for those of my trackers.' He had said that the first night I knew him, when we were visiting the hellsmith. My life for the one who was keeping tabs on him, my life for the death mistress...Eva said something about a blood pack…and but…was that Vergil? It couldn't be…he was alive…right? What's going on? Wow…I don't know if a cigarette is going to cover this one….


	120. Sympathy Pains

The disreputable Dog, Sabriel, and Touchstone are bitchn'! And the splendiferously AMAZING PockyMunchingGod is at it again. She's got a rough copy of the cover art/fanart she's been working on posted on her profile page! (It's so damn _PURDY_!!) Go check it out! (Hearts and lots'o love to PMG!) XD Welp…here we go! Another fog lifter of sorts, stay with me here, we'll be getting back to the ac'tung soon. Enjoy!

* * *

**Lauren**

"No way," I growl. "No way in hell."

_And_ _why ever not?_ The voice asked. That voice. It was that woman. Blinking, I squinted. She was there, at the end of the main room, sitting upon her ebony throne. I could barely see her through the darkness of the place. She regarded me coolly from her seat of power. My hair, my eyes…nothing's sacred anymore. I reached for the carton in my back pocket. Well at least I still had one thing over this look alike. Her long hair fell past her breast, pooling in her lap. She looked exactly as she had in whatever mind fuck I'd just experienced. The silver scything sat as it had before, leaning against the throne.

"Because _I'm_ the dead one," I snarl. "Not him. He's the one who-"

_You are right and you wrong. He died once, at the hands of another. I offered him a second chance, if he but_ _completed the blood oath his father swore to me years ago. He had little choice in the matter._ _One such as him would have served my purposes, as he may have suspected, no matter the decision made. It is the freedom of mortals to live as they wish. However, you have seen the past. You have seen the decision the Halfling made. One could almost say he chose the path of atonement._

"Atonement?" I ask hollowly. Who the hell is strong enough to kill Vergil? Even killing Vergil once…it would have had to have been nearly impossible… "Let me get this strait: he murdered me, because you asked him to? And this was after he himself swore a blood oath to you, after he died?"

_Correct. _I swear the smallest of smirks touched her lips. This woman is putting me on edge more than Vergil's mummy and daddy did. _You are a fragment of my power, reincarnated on earth, in my image. You would never have reached your true potentia had you never come here to me. The blood oath created by the father and fulfilled by the son allows for your complete ascension. It is essential that you master that which I have buried within you. The fate of the world hangs in the balance._

"I'm not a fragment of anything," I snap. "I'm human, dammit."

_You are a trying __**fragment. **_She sighed_. It is of little importance that you understand now, however, for expediency's sake I shall tell you of the blood oath and more of your own nature._

"By all means," I growl. "Dazzle me."

_Once, centuries after the celestial wars in which god himself was sentenced to an eternity of purification and thusly a human death, after my mother gave her life to protect the human realm from the powers of the heavens, and after I was betrayed and sunk too deep into death to safely leave my domain-_

"Look, I don't have a lot of patience, lady. What does any of this crap have to do with me?" I snapped. The woman's eyes flickered a white color. A second latter and it was like some one had turned gravity's knob up a couple of notches. Her aura was cascading around me like an iron waterfall, forcing me to my knees. Kneeling, the scent of her aura filled my mouth with each breath. She smelled like roadkill and vast flower fields. The mingling of the putrid and the poetic made me gag. Apparently, I've just said something stupid. I glare at her, the scrolling in my skin flickering red as they writhed against the foreign aura. Fighting back with my own aura was like throwing a cookie to a hungry tiger, pointless and futile. The bitch never even left her throne.

_Make no mistake, fragment. You are here because I desire it. Just as you have always been mine. Now you will listen. _Her eyes dimmed, returning to the same gold honey I stared at every time I looked in a mirror. Her aura remained however, crushing my knees and palms into the hard marble, I struggled to stay off the floor. _Centuries after many irreversible things were done, a warrior demon ventured into my lands, the realm of the dead. However, this demon was neither alive nor dead. _

_As you may or may not know, occasionally, a being with a strong enough will finds a way to tie their soul to an inanimate object, creating what is known as a soul arm. In the past, Soul Arms often took the form of a warriors favored weapon. Soul Arms, more often than not, slow the transition from life to death, as the soul arm acts as an extension to the host's soul. Therefore, Soul Arms often have a tendency to stretch the host's soul through both in life and in death. In cases such as this, it is almost impossible for beings with soul arms to ever completely die. _

_In this particular case that I speak of, the warrior demon's soul was tethered to the human realm by his sword. The demon's name was Sparda, or so he claimed. He came to my realms betrayed and seeking revenge, as so many of his kind did. _

_By all means, I usually would have dismissed such a request. However, I learned from this demon that, contrary to what I had believed, my mother's death had not created a barrier protecting humans from the wraths of hell. So I offered the dark knight a deal, to be sealed in blood. He would separate the human realm from the many hells and I, in exchange, would allow him to continue his existence, to live as he might have lived had he never been betrayed. The bargain was made all the easier by the demon's soul arm. Of course, the terms of the deal came with a high price. Sparda willingly agreed to champion the mortal realm until a fragment of my power was born and matured._

_Ironically enough, I believe this demon may have championed the human realm even had I not asked the task of him. I have never seen the likes of that demon since, and I do not know if I ever will again._

The woman paused for a moment, as if to consider something before continuing. _Unfortunately, Sparda died before you were born._ I said nothing, waiting for her to continue. _Have you no questions now?_ She asked, her voice mocking.

"I'll ask my questions when you're done," I retorted annoyed. My arms were beginning to tremble from the effort it took to keep my face from plastering on the marble floor. All this information is starting to make my head spin the way it is. I don't need a marble floor induced concussion to help my head along in any way.

_Intuitive_, she commented after a moment. _It has occurred to me, I have not introduced myself properly._ _I am Loki, the true angle of death, and the ruler of those lands which you have been witness to. _

_When one of Sparda's offspring came here, little more than two years pas- in a manner similar to the way his father had-I offered him a revival of the blood oath. It is just as well that he does my bidding. Had he refused the blood oath, as he must have suspected, I would have had laid claim to the possession of his soul and he would have been my servant all the same. As was the terms of the original blood oath Sparda swore._

I said nothing now. I had nothing to say. _'You're murdering my family…'_ Is this what Lady Eva was talking about? Is this my heritage? This is the person I've always wondered about….the person who… … …. Family…I can't believe I'm even questioning this-you'd think it'd be obvious-but Vergil actually had a family at one point in time? I mean it's not like him and Dante are close or anything…hell, that'd be an oxymoron in right situation. I guess I never thought of Vergil having a mom-or at least a human one. Vergil doesn't care about anything but what he wants…so why would he enter a blood oath? Even if he knew his soul was a stake that doesn't seem like the kind of thing that would bother him… … … Loki isn't telling me everything…and frankly…I'm not sure I want to know all of it…

_I believe I have answered you questions sufficiently. You will do as I say now. You are my fragment and thereby bound to my will. But do not think I am an unjust goddess. I have two gifts for you, to ease your transition into your role as my fragment. But first…we must awaken that power which sleeps inside of you. You are to be my voice piece in the human realm. The bloodoath will be broken, and you shall carry the responsibility of maintaining the human realm, in my absence, until the last incarnation of Gabriel has matured._

**Raziel**

It was done. Gently he kissed the hem of his mother's dress. She didn't respond, her eyes watching him blankly. She had so little strength left. Something flickered in the back of her indigo eyes as he rose.

"Good bye mother," he bowed, short black hair falling into green eyes. Skin, bones muscles, the Soul Reaver was sheathed at his back, the metal of the crooked blade once again a reality. He had forgotten what this was like. What his body had been like, before the angels retaliated under Yanos….before they had cast Loki into her realm and Vali into hell. Time was wasting. As an angel of order, he could gain a brief sanctuary to Loki's realms, and as planned, he would aid the fragment's first transition through the barriers.

Gathering his energy, Raziel focused. _Soon enough, I will be there Loki…_

**Eva**

"I've been…mistaken, haven't I?" Eva asked softly. Sparda looked down the woman he cradled. The wastelands always seemed to drain his wife of her strength. Humans, their contradictions and weaknesses had been confounding once.

"Mistaken?" he prodded.

"The fragment…the one teathered to…to his soul…how can she not be human? She couldn't have been the unfeeling monster Loki told us of. The way it looked at me, when I said…" Eva's voice trailed off. "I said horrible things didn't I?"

"No one ever said fragments couldn't acquire humanistic traits," he offered. "I didn't believe I needed to remind you that our children are fully grown. They didn't require our help at the outset of this."

"Ha. You never had children at the outset of this."

"That does not change the fact that they are free to govern themselves."

"You're not helping my love." Eva groaned, resting her head against his shoulder. "It's just…she seemed so apathic…I was afraid she wouldn't help. That she wouldn't accept her role-"

"Very few beings ever fully accept their proper role in the duration of their existences, as you should remember. You certainly never did."

"Neither did you."

"This is true."

"I never heard you complain," Eva retorted. Sparda chuckled.

"Can't say I did." The demon agreed.

"Well then," Eva rose, shrugging off the demon. "Let's go."

"Go?" The demon asked, raising an eyebrow. Eva smirked, drawing both her guns as she cast a quick glace over her shoulder. The ebony and prism white of the dual pistols shone dully in the heavy mist of the worlds. Eva stared at the doors to the cathedral. They were still open. She glanced back at the demon that had yet to rise to his feet.

"Is the demon afraid?" Eva asked mockingly, a smile on her face.

"If it will ease your conscious," Sparda replied rising.

"That's a nice façade," Eva retorted, "but I know you're as curious as I am. Besides, I mislike trusting that being with something so valuable." To that Sparda laughed, drawing the large halberd ghost blade.

"You'd consider a demon's soul valuable? You used to hate demons on sight."

"Things obviously change," Eva replied, crossing her arms. The tip of the prims white gun tapped against her side impatiently.

"For which I am eternally thankful. Shall we?" Shouldering the blade, Sparda offered an arm to the woman.

"I'd be delighted." Eva took his arm. Together the two entered the cathedral.

**Lauren**

Her aura was so heavy. So much heavier than any other I had experienced. It suffocated, pressing down on me. It was so…_profound_, as if it were a presence onto itself. My forehead brushed the ground as I fought it. I couldn't scream. I couldn't speak. I was drowning in an invisible sea. The scrollings in my skin blazed white hot. They were so warm. It hurt. Everything hurt. My back…the seal on my back…oh god…my shoulder blades. Sweat trickled down my temple, falling on to the ground as I shuddered beneath the weight of her aura.

What is this? _'You shall bear the responsibility of maintaining the human realm in my absence…'_ I'm not saving the damn world! What's the world ever done to save me? Fuck I can't even save myself! I'm not her fragment. I'm not a part of _her_! I am me. I am myself. I'm my own damn person. My name is Lauren. Lauren Rose Star. I had a father. I had a mother. I had a sister and a family. I'm not a plaything people can shove around.

_Stop resisting me. _Her voice broke through the mental fog the pressure of her aura was creating. _You are my fragment. Give in to my judgement. Submit to your fate. The human realm hangs in the balance._

No! I won't! I can't! I refuse!

The scrollings in my skin flared, burning now. I could feel her aura wrapping around me tightly. My vision blurred, the droplet of sweat on the ground flickering in and out of my focus. I couldn't breath. My back, my shoulder blades, my skin, …. ….. … my heart…. They're breaking…I can't stand this…it hurts so much…

Somewhere through the haze I could just barely make out the yellow ruby light. A cool feeling over my heart, where metal and stone touched skin. The amerhurst? The chain around my neck was a cool salve. It kept me from losing it completely. But it wasn't enough. It still felt like lava was oozing out of my ears. Even my mouth was filled with a sick heavy feeling that made it hard to swallow. I could feel her bearing down, trying to ease a knife into my mind.

She wants in. She's trying to break me. Is that what it means to be her fragment? I won't be myself any more? Isn't that what death should be? I never wanted any of this and I know I'm not going to win. Why did Vergil give me the Amerhurst anyways?

**Vergil**

The amerhust flickered at his wrist, sparking an eerie red yellow color. The pain was immediate, clawing its way up his arm. He could almost hear someone screaming. He'd recognize that voice. The woman never stopped running her mouth. _Lauren_. Zanbato clashed against the giant Sparda sword, yet this time Dante gained ground. Women. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain sinking its forked teeth into his shoulder. They had no sense of timing. Zanbato threw the Sparda sword aside once again.

Apparently, Loki was attacking Lauren. The amerhust had continuously swapped out their auras since he'd given her the jewel fragment. He was distinctly aware of the fact that far too much had been swapped between the two of them, if he was feeling Lauren's pain even in death. Despite this however, Vergil smirked.

"Still laughing huh?" Dante demanded panting. He returned his twin's bestial grin. "You never used to be this fun." So close. So close to freedom. So close to repaying the blood dept. So close to finishing something Sparda never had. He wouldn't let Dante stand in his way.

"Fool," Vergil laughed, even as his vision began to blur slightly. Such was the price paid to the amerhust. Lauren's soul was teathered to the human realm through the gem. As she was tethering him in death with her own half of the jewel. Soon…it was so close… Blue replicas of yamoto hovered in the air. As expected Dante dodged them easy, but that was exactly what he expected. Zanbato cut through the air, catching his twin in the side. Merciless, he didn't hold back as the blade swung forward. Blood-its blue sheen highlighted by the love his brother had for red leather-trickled down Dante's side in steady wash. He didn't hesitate, didn't pause, he just continued the blow, thoroughly throwing Dante to the earth.

"Did I forget to mention, _twin_," He hissed, watching Dante tumble through the air, "I'm going to end it today. One way or another." So long as his goals were achieved, so long as he was masterless and ruler of his own will….did it matter the path he took? So long as the destination was always the same it had been to begin with, did it really matter?


	121. The Proposal II

Holy. Freakn'. Hell. Update. 'Nuff said. Enjoy.

**Vali & Satan**

"Hello mother," she smirked wolfishly at the red haired woman. "It's time." Around them the sanctuary her mother had built between the barriers was crumbling. Reaching down, Vali pulled the woman out of her throne, her hand knotting in the thick locks of crimson.

"And now," Vali breathed. Satan stared helplessly into the violet, green eyes of her possessed daughter. She was barely strong enough to draw breath. Only fractions of an inch separated the tips of their noses. Holding her mother close in an embrace, Vali sighed in Satan's ear, her lips brushing the woman's neck as she pulled away once again. Vali's eyes lit with power as the tangled hand tightened its grip. Her voice deepen as she spoke, revealing the nature of the one who possessed her. "You will repent for the crimes you've committed against us."

**Eva**

The gun shots rang clear through the air. The crackle of power subsided as the death angel coolly regarded the demon and the woman. A trickled of black blood fell down her cheek in a slow line.

"What have you done?" Eva demanded aghast. Blood leaked through the fragment's fingertips as it hugged itself. Long black hair fell, mingled with the trickle of blood coating the fragment's back. Sparda silently watched the unfolding scene as the scent of blood filled the cathedral. He could smell it on the air.

_I have done what is necessary_. _You would do well to remember that._ The death angel commented as Eva rushed to the fragment's side. _Which also begs to question your purpose here. _Crouching down she laid a hand on the fragment's shoulder, only to hastily pull it away a second latter.

"She's burning," Eva stared. Was it possible to die when one was already dead?

_I suppose that is possible._ Loki allowed. _This fragment is stubborn. It refuses to merge with my consciousness. Needless to say, this is unacceptable. Had it simply given in, it would not be experiencing such pain. So long as it resists, the blood oath will go unbroken._

"What?" Eva demanded, her breath a sharp intake.

_Life is not fair._ Loki retorted sharply. _You'd be a fool to assume death would be._

"How can you use people like this?" Eva rose to her feet, temper flaring once again, hands reaching for the guns she'd holstered. Dark skinned hands with long sharp claws stilled her, as they gently traced a line down her arm. Eva glanced to her husband. Clenching her jaw, the guns stayed holstered.

_How can I not?_ The angel countered, taking a step from her throne. _The purpose of my existence is to ensure the success of humanity._

"Perhaps I can offer a path lesser taken?" Sparda asked casually. Yellow eyes watched him warily for a moment.

_I am listening demon. Time is wasting, however._ Sparda inclined his head, the sword in his hand held loosely.

"Very well. I would think the fragment would be better able to accomplish your goals as a mouthpiece in the human realm had it possession of its own mind. As a goddess you deal solely with manipulation of the living. You yourself are dead, you have been so for eons," Sparda paused for a moment, glancing to the fragment before continuing. "It goes without saying, present humanity has changed in nature from the humanity you once understood. This fragment knows the mortal world as you do not. A living fragment with a mind of its own would be able to better act as your manipulator in the human realm. Allow her to serve your needs, yet allow it possession of soul and spirit. I dare say you would find your fragment easier to handle." For a long moment, Loki didn't speak. Eva didn't dare breath. The fragment said nothing. The seconds ticked by. Finally, Loki stirred.

_As always, you are well spoken and well considered, Sparda._ The angel rose then, reaching for the scythe which had leaned upon her throne. Slowly she crossed the large room, her footsteps impossibly quiet. She paused before the fragment, her eyes always on the trembling figure kneeling before her. With her thumb she rubbed away the blood from her cheek. _Very well, I will do as you suggest. The fragment will retain its consciousness, but I will always be its master, and as such I will always hold the reigns to its power. Following this course, the blood oath between your house and mine is hereby broken._ With that the angle of death raised a hand. Slowly two fingers came to rest in the middle of the fragment's forehead.

"Wait, what are you?" Eva began her voice sharp. Loki's scrollings flared to life, a deep darkness in her pallid skin. Eva's eyes narrowed as slightly as understanding dawned. Was this the price of their freedom? She was a maiden of silver, sworn to protect people from evil…not deliver them to it…

"It is not an ideal solution," Sparda agreed to Eva's silence, "but it will serve its purpose."

_Do not presume to speak for me, demon. _Loki retorted._ I have opted to adopt this fragment as my daughter. As I said, I will do as you suggest. The fragment will keep it's consciousness but I will keep the fragment as my own. _Kneeling, Loki took the fragment's chin between her fingers, her two fingers alight with her aura.

**Trish**

She winced, staring down at the human's corpse. Vergil had done a number on the poor kid. Why wasn't she surprised? Shaking her head and dismissing the sight for a moment, the demoness looked to the sky. The moon was completely obscured by the malevolent darkness seeping from the torn barriers. Dante and Vergil continued to fight as the red evil splash of Vali's aura hovered in the midst of it all. The edges of the torn barriers wavered and flickered like the tip of a candle revealing an impossible world beyond it. It was a world of grays and dark blacks. A dreary world with thick bluish, green fog. It didn't look pretty. The feeling it gave off was even worse.

Raising a hand Trish moved past the shallow sarcophagus, pooling power in her palm as she went. It was faint, but she could just barely make out the glimmer of Aliastor's blade. The mighty sword was all but over run with the vinery growth. Getting the sword would be the easy part. Dealing with the hell bitch in the sky would be a whole other monster. Hand crackling with raw aura, Trish sent the small bomb out with the hopes the resulting explosion would give her a usable weapon.

**Raziel**

Black lacquered doors stood before him and opened silently in recognition of him. He could hear voices echoing inside the grand cathedral, could smell so many scents on the stagnant air. One in particular fascinated him. It was a scent similar to his own. He felt a grin on his lips, stretching his mouth until pointed canines showed. It was an effort to reign in his bubbling excitement.

_The blood oath between your house and mine is hereby broken. _His sister's voice.

"What are you?" An unfamiliar woman's voice.

"It is not an ideal solution, but it will serve it's purpose." A low throaty growl. A demon perhaps?

_Do not presume to speak for me, demon. I have opted to adopt this fragment as my daughter. As I said, I will do as you suggest. The fragment will keep it's consciousness but I will keep the fragment as my own. _Though he had not seen his sister for centuries, there was no mistaking her proud manner.

"I see you've finally met the one we spoke of," Raziel called out. "Tell me, how have you been sister?" He surveyed the scene before him. A demon, a human, his sister, and that which his sister had spawned. So there was a chance it would all fall together. That was good to know.

_You were to educate her on the matters of her heritage_. _As were you demon._ Loki's eyes were piercing. _You did not do so well in accomplishing this task, my brother. _He came to a stop before the four beings.

"Truth be told, I wasn't sure if Lor was you or simply a fragment of you. Thus, I treated her as family and deserving of the respect such a title carries. I suppose you could say I assumed she knew more than she may have."

_That was foolish move on your behalf and now your actions are costing us time._ Sighing the death goddess let her fingers drop from the fragment's forehead. The scrollings were livid in the fragment's skin. It's wounds began to slowly heal. Using the hem of her dress, Loki began to wipe away the blood dripping from the fragment's eyes. It wasn't long before most of the blood was washed from the fragment's face.

"Perhaps," Raziel shrugged, watching Loki. "Have you merged with her consciousness?" Loki hesitated for a moment before answering, not looking at him.

_No. _His sister always was a proud one, though her heart was a good one. Gods he had missed her. Almost as much as he had missed his own body. _If you wish, you may call her my daughter. I believe I shall adopt her as my own._

"Daughter?" Raziel blinked before chuckling. This was an unusual move for Loki to play. "Well, then I suppose you were never meant to absorb your fragment."

_Oh?_ The death angel shot him a glance before returning her attentions to the human. So he was right in guessing Loki didn't know.

"We have a problem." As usual his sister was perceptive. As a dead being, Loki was very attuned to the happenings of the land of the living. A new calculating light entered Loki's eyes as she swept her senses outwards. No doubt she could feel Vali's strangle hold on the barriers.

_So_ _I see. But there's more isn't there?_ Slowly Loki rose.

"Yes. I believe Vali has absorbed not only mother but our father's latest reincarnation. As well as all of his previous ones. You do know what this means, don't you?"

_A continuance of the Celestial Wars_. Loki rose, turning to her brother. _I haven't the time to teach her. You will have to guide her. _

"Consider it done." Raziel nodded to the still crouching fragment.

_Come, rise._ Loki extended a hand to the fragment. _Let me see you._ Slowly, silently, the fragment reached, until Loki's flesh closed around her hand. Easily, the goddess pulled the fragment to her feet, assisting it as it stood on weak legs. Again Loki spoke.

_You are healing. That is no gift of mine._ Loki sniffed. _You will do well enough._ _Do you see this?_ The silver scythe glimmered in the murkiness of the great vaulted room. Easily, Loki raised it in her hand. _This is my soularm, Maelstrom. Bear it well._ Maelstrom glimmered in the death goddess's hand. The pale scrollings of the metal flickered as the metal seemed to shrink, the white ghostly scrollings delicately interwoven. Within a moment Loki held a small silver ring in the palm of her hand. Loki pressed the ring into the fragment's hand.

_The shadows of death serve as your armor. They will take whatever form you so desire. Understand this armor is not for personal gain, it is named Armor Purity for a reason. _The fragment pushed away from Loki.

_Understand this little fragment daughter of mine, the power I have given you will last only so long as Vali breaths. Your existence is expendable, but I am a fair goddess. Do my bidding now-destroy Vali and save Gabriel's latest reincarnation from her clutches-and we will speak of your continued existence in the mortal realm. Head Raziel's counsel, he will guide you back to the lands of the living.Make haste for we have very little time at our disposal._

"My name is Lor," It croaked, slipping the ring on its middle finger. "I'm not your daughter, I want a cigarette, and if you want me to do anything then I think I need a ride."

**Trish**

Alistor was hers. The dark burnt crisps of dead greenery fell away from the blade's glossy blade length. Easily the weapon sheathed at her back. One problem down, one more to go. Yellow electricity flickered over her skin, giving the yellow highlights in her hair an unnatural white-ish color. The demonness in the sky laughed, her voice insane. Sighing, a tired grin rose to Trish's lips. A vacation some place warm had better be in order after this…assuming Dante didn't go emo on her after this last battle. God how could he still care for Vergil? Twins, she would never understand them.

The battle between the two sons of Sparda thundered across the night skies. Above them the real problem lay. Even if the world was falling down around them, she knew neither of them would back down. No demon backed down from a decent fight. Just as she was going to put this bitch in her place. A real grin on her mouth now, Trish eyed the red splotch covering the moon, feeling her demonic power swelling within her. This would be fun.


	122. Volver

update...this chappie is more about a check up on what every one with in the story is doing and hopefully clarifying main ideas/locations/what-have-you for me as well as you, the reader. So, here you are! Enjoy!

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**Vali**

She roared, feeling the expansion of senses and power. Heaven and hell was at her fingertips, their armies at her disposal. They warred beneath her, tearing and scratching and clawing and biting. They were the masses she controlled. They were her fingers and her toes and did her bidding. They lived to follow her will. They would herd the humans, subjugate them, as in the times of old. She would reign as she had, as her father had. She would make the humans strive, reach and grasp for something new. She would be what they grasped for. They would beg for her forgiveness, they would ask to serve her will. The laughter buckled out from her, the thunder trembling at her voice. Everything, everything was hers.

Raising both arms over her head she summoned them to her will. The hordes of hell and the ancient plaque bringers of heaven, those demon and seraphim kin, they would bend to her will. They would destroy those that would stand against her, namely the sons of that traitor Sparda. Despite the fact that both the late dark knight and one of his sons had done her the favor of disposing of Mundus, it wasn't below her whims to use trash to meet her ends. Already she could feel the minuet resonance of souls, the demons and angels, responding. They were rising from the ashes of the angelic court. How perfect. The plaques of the world spewing forth from the burnt remnants of heaven, it was too perfect. Too poetic. She was savoring the taste of it. They would kill the last that stood in her way and then the world would be-

THWOCK.

Blinking, hands falling a little, Vali stared at the metal blade now embedded in her stomach, blinking. The weapon's length flickered with gold and silver electricity. Faintly, she could smell burning flesh. Not amused, she glanced over to the new opposition.

"Hey there sweets," Trish smiled grimly.

"Worm," Vali sneered, tearing the weapon out. Annoyed Vali sent the weapon hurtling. Trish chuckled as she rose, easily stopping the weapon as it's tip came bearing down on her, aimed for the space between her eyebrows. Her aura was so in tuned to Alastor, as both of them had been born of thunder, it was easy to repossess the weapon. Almost like second nature really. Blinking she stared at the weapon tip crossed eyed, before smiling. Alastor hummed in the night sky as the weapon stood still, listening to Trish's aura. The hilt swung backwards into her hand. "You dare challenge me?" Vali demanded. Trish snorted, lowering the blade and falling into an open stance.

"Suffer," Vali breathed, affronted. She summoned her newfound power. "Suffer. Suffer like all others who would stand against me. Suffer until your last."

**Lauren**

"A ride, you say?" he asked me. He stared at me with uncanny, brilliant eyes and smiled with vampire like canines. He only had three clawed digits on each hand and bat like wings. He had short black hair, held back in a small pony tail, though his bangs fell into his eyes somewhat. Those eyes and that voice…. A sly grin twisted his mouth.

"Do I know you?" I asked flatly. Déjà vu is making it's sucky return.

"We've met in passing." His grin grew. "You may call me Uncle Raziel." Sure thing bucko. I snorted. But, now that I think of it. I look over to the demon and Vergil's mom.

"I've met you before too, haven't I? I mean before all this weird shit." It was brief, I remember that…like a passing dream. Or a nightmare. Sparda nodded.

"I'm surprised you're clear headed enough to remember, mortal."

"Whatever." I sigh. I have to hand it to Vergil, when he sets his traps, there's no escaping them once they've sprung. The bastard. Whatever Loki did to me, I feel great. Better than great. Better than I have in the last couple of years, which is kind'uv a big thing when you're me.

"Come," Raziel said, energy pooling into his hand. I raised an eyebrow as he opened a black hole vortex to no where. "Are you prepared?" The vortex looked like a sick ride. Green blue spirals extended into nothingness. So now I kill things after I go through the vortex. If I get a piece of Vergil in the process, then I'll consider it a gain.

"I have a choice?"

_No._ Loki replied. I rolled my eyes.

"You need to work on your social skills." Shaking his head, Raziel extended a hand.

"Shall we little lady?" Pet names? Gag me.

"She's a lady," I nodded to Eva. She stares at me, eyebrows raising in surprise at being drawn into the conversation. "I'm not," I cross my arms as I step up to the vortex, "and I never will be." The dark opening was sucking in the murky darkness of the Loki's creepy home. The wind from it pulled at the back of my knees and the ends of my hair.

_All members of this house are deserving of the titles of nobility_. Loki responded. _As are you, fragment. I will guide you as I may in the coming battle. You need only turn inwards to find me._

"You act like I need help getting into a fight."

_And you've defeated a god before?_ Loki asked. Minor point in my opinion. I'm pissed enough to kill anything she asks me to, god or not. Though, it's weird. Usually, I'd be so angry my vision would be blurry and I'd be screaming a thousand swear words a minute. But instead, I'm just ice. Oh I'm seething, don't get me wrong, but I dunno what it is…I'm just cold, emotionally and physically. Numb, even. I know when I get back I'm going to lose whatever this cool is, but for now…it's helping…in a way. I don't feel as much. Which is probably the only thing keeping me together right now. Funny, the feeling started when Loki touched my forehead…I'm angry and I'm numb. It feels so weird, but at least its easier to think this way.

"La de freakn' da. According to you, Gods can bleed. So why exactly do I have to be the one-"

"And now we shall make our way," Raziel said quickly, cutting me off as his hand wrapped around my arm. Loki was giving me a hard look, which I returned. "Adios my dearest sister," Raziel blew her a kiss. "Until we meet again." Then he pulled me through the vortex. We left the three of them-Sparda, Eva and Loki-standing there in the dark and lonely haze of death.

**Lucia **

She was halfway to across the vine covered expanse when Trish rose to the sky. At the same time she watched the blond fly towards the massive evil in the sky, several various forms of heaven and hell began to rise from the vine encrusted earth or pour forth from the holes to hell sprouting up around the place. Squawking, Lucia lost her footing and sprawled out on the ground, gracefully face planting. Mentally groaning, it took a moment before the demoness pushed herself up from the ground. Blinking, she stared at the scene unfolding around her.

The clawed hook of a seraphim reached out and scrabbled at the ground, pulling it's owner likewise, from the rough, gritty dirt of New Light. Yipping, Lucia backed up until she fell on her butt. Screeching the faceless seraphim spread its wings and flew. In the sky, goatlings took to the sky, flanked by blood-goyels and pyromancers. In their midst, seraphim flew, side by side with their inferno kin.

"What?" Lucia asked no one in particular as she strained her neck to watch the migrating demons and angel kin. A loud bellowing drew her attention. Head lowering, Lucia took in the sight of a charging spider. Reacting, she drew two throwing daggers and an arm length short sword. Twisting, the spider just barely missed her. Exhaling, Lucia let the daggers fly, aiming for the legs.

**Dante and Vergil**

Rebellion swung forward, cutting through the shade of a sin scissors and drawing a line down the top of Vergil's hand, inbetween the knuckles. The blade however, drew no blood.

"Useless." Vergil's sword was a blur, clipping the winds of a goatling as yamoto spun in a circle, blocking a blood-goyle's energy blast, before lashing out. The weapon's sharp edge missed slitting Dante's stomach in two by inches as his twin twisted out of danger's way.. Elbowing a demon in the face, the flat side of Rebellion hit Vergil's side, the edge aiming upwards for his arm and shoulder joint. Recoiling, Vergil regarded his brother. Annoyed he crushed the fiberous skull of a seraphim as it attempted to take his life in passing. The bone fragments fell away to dust from the impact of his sword hilt.

"Getting a bit crowded up here," Dante commented, Rebellion's pommel dancing a circle in his palm. Looking up at Vali for the first time that night, Dante chuckled. "Your old girl friend is a real bitch, you know that?" Eyes narrowing, Yamoto plunged into Dante's shoulder. Thousands of Blood-goyles swarmed about them, circling in a flock. All of the lesser demons treated them with indifference as they rose higher and higher in the night sky.

"You're getting sloppy," Dante grunted, grinning as always. Vergil felt a searing heat cross his back as Rebellion flung itself back into Dante's hand. The blade came down, flickering red. It hit empty space. Light flickered at Vergil's wrist as he backed off. Dante watched as his twin held up the hand, the amber red light jumping up his arm. A small gem twinkled. Vergil said nothing, but growled annoyed.

"Are you in this or not?" Dante demanded. Vergil's glare locked onto him-which was nothing in Dante's opinion-until his twin smiled calmly.

"You really are clueless aren't you?" Vergil asked dryly. "All of this has been a waste of my time. You are a waste of my time. You're hardly worth the effort if you have nothing more to offer than your lip service and the same, tired, pathetic ideals as before." Yamoto flickered. "Even now, surrounded as we are by the dredges of hell, you hardly understand what I have to gain from all this. Do you?"

"You never learn," Dante commented, not smiling, "so it's usually the same useless crap time and time again."

"Some things never change," Vergil agreed. "But some things do." Vergil spread his wings to their fullest. "C'mon little brother. Where's your appreciation for the unknown?" Backing off, Vergil disappeared in the swarm of angels and demons. The auras were so thick in the air any other scents were completely blotted out.

**Conversation**

Return to your body. Rise, kill Vali. Can you manage as much?

Don't insult me.

Most importantly, don't forget to sever the child from Vali before you destroy her. And for the love of the worlds, kill my sister with every fiber of your being.

Killing your own sister? Both you and Loki don't mind killing your family? That's cold.

Perhaps. Tell me is it better to die by the hands of one you trust? Or is it better to die at the hands of an enemy?

… … … … …. How the hell would I know?

If I've offended you forgive me, it was not my intention. Both I and Loki suffer from the same problem: we have difficulty understanding humanity as it has evolved to this day. Humans are so different from what they used to be. In times of old, in my time, it was worse than an insult to be slayed by one of your own house. But I digress, it would seem we're nearing the end of this ride. Best of luck to you little niece.

… … … whatever.

**Rayne**

She was waiting for him, as she said she would be. Legs crossed, she was watching the demons swarm outside of the blood field she'd created. It had taken her far too much blood to construct the barrier. She was feeling the sluggishness that accompanied blood loss.

Coughing the being beside her, stirred. She wasn't fazed as skin and clothing covered the figure, as nails and hair grew to replace old, decaying tatters and bones snapped back into place with sickening crunches and squelching. She had seen so many grotesque vampires to be fazed by this. In a moment, the being rose, offering her hand.

"You were the first, if memory serves me still," he said. Black hair, green eyes. Rayne rose on her own, not bothering with his hand. She didn't look him in the eye.

"Then you know what happens next."

"Later perhaps," Raziel shrugged, turning away, facing evil swarms in the skies. "I have to catch a falling star first."

**Lauren**

Eyes open. It was like waking up from a bad dream. But I was in a stone box, with an all too familiar ring on the middle finger of my right hand. My chest was wet. Wiping away the liquid-blood as it happened to be-I sat up. Things had gone from bad to decidedly worse since I'd died. Demons and seraphim were all over the place. I could see Lucia contending with a lot of them. But there was too many, she'd be overwhelmed soon. In the sky red and blue thunder flickered. Dante and Vergil, fighting. Above them, Vali. Vali and someone else. Trish. I could see her, I could see the details. Her hair, her defensive maneuvers, the way she was swinging her sword in a high arc.

My eye sight. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. I could smell things too. I could smell Tiffany's burnt corpse even here. Is this what it's like, being like Vergil? Or Dante, Trish and lucia for that matter? _These gifts will wear away with time._ Loki's voice whispered in the back of my mind. _You must being the battle and soon, before you are too weak to contend with Vali._ _Remember, I am here when you need me. Turn inwards and ask of me what you would. _Strangely enough, having an angel of death inside my head wasn't all that alarming. It was the fact that the eyesight, sense of smell, and no doubt faster and better everything else wasn't going to last. Meaning once Vali was dead, I was back to being stomped on by every other living organism of hell and heaven. Peachy.

**Loki**

The angel of death watched as the two left, the portal to life closing behind them. An odd hollow feeling entered her breast. Any feeling at all was amazement enough. The dead did not feel. Not to the extent that the living did, in any case. The dead were nothing more than shadows to the light of life, and as such, could only echo the light. The dead were shadows-shades waiting either for oblivion or reincarnation-that strove to mime the living world. The lost could not feel, and by principle, neither should she.

As a key player in the manipulation of the fates and destiny, it was imperative she remain impartial and unaffected. Essentially unattached to that which she strove to manipulate. Gently Loki touched her warming skin. Quite a dilemma this was.

"If you would," Loki turned to the demon and his wife, inclining her head, "I may require your assistance in the future."


	123. Armor the Gaurd

Okay, i was on a family vacay and i'm holding two jobs this summer. Life happens, but then again, so is this chapter. Enjoy, its long over due.

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**Lucia**

The short swords hooked into the marionette's ribcage. With a twist of her wrist, the wooden like bones snapped as she drove her knee into the puppet's face. Screaming the demon fell into dust. Twisting, the dagger flew from Lucia's hand, hitting a seraphim's forehead dead center. Drawing up the short blade again she was barely able to check the blow of a goatling.

Fire danced around her in a circle, even as Lucia turned to confront the next enemy. Pyromancers, a lot of them, and she was surrounded. How had _that_ happened? Gripping the dual short swords tightly, the demonness charged. Flames flickered around her once again, making the already dry air nearly unbreathable. The tip of her sword plunged deep into the bowel's of a necromancer's hood, shooting out the back.

Lucia stifled a scream as white hot blazed at her ankles. Her pants went up in fire, despite the fact that was demonic armor, clothing enchanted with Matier's strongest charms. Her Achilles tendons gave out under the demon blaze, bringing her to her knees.

Hissing, she reached for her daggers. Her hands came up empty. Out? Impossible, she just needed something-anything-that was useable for projectile. Eyes up Lucia didn't dare blink, a seraphim was stalking towards her, screeching in whatever language it possessed. Though the swarming masses paid her little attention now that she was on the ground, the seraphim remained locked on to her. It was coming closer. Staggering, she tried to rise. Her legs hadn't chance to heal yet. Again the short swords became her defensive shield, as they had in the past, forming an x with too many holes to work around.

The seraphim screamed, raising a clawed hand. A chain twisted around it. The chain was yanked, throwing the seraphim backwards into an abyss demon. The two beings began to tear at each other as very distinctive stilettos came to land in the ground next to Lucia.

"Miss me, sweet blood?" Rayne purred. Both her short swords were already coated with various kinds of blood.

"Please don't tell me," Lucia demanded, staggering to her feet, "that you've taken up the art of stalking."

"You know, your accent sounds a lot cuter when you're annoyed," Rayne smirked.

"Bloody Vampire."

"I see you've found your donor." Lucia turned to face the new voice. 'Donor' wasn't exactly a title she wanted to follow her around for the next couple of years.

"Not quite what you're imagining. And you are?"

"You may call me Raziel," he inclined his head. "I believe we've already met. The battle has found us. Shall we?" He raised a glowing ethereal weapon. As with the wraith, the weapon seemed bound to the flesh of his arm. One blow from the weapon and his opponents dropped dead, a ghost white light trail following the path of the ethereal weapon. The weapon had passed through a demon with out pause, yet didn't leave a mark and the demon had fallen down dead, disintegrating into dust. Blinking Lucia stared. Had she met this man before? What was with his weapon? More importantly, where could she get one of those?

"Your eyeballs are going to fall out of your skull sweet blood," Rayne whispered in her ear as she side stepped, avoid a hell pawn. Sighing annoyed and somewhat more healed-though to what extent was still in question-Lucia followed the two as they carved their way through the thick masses.

**Trish**

Silver razor edged wire whipped out, snapping against Alastor's hard blade, pushing her back. Recoiling, twisting to the side, Trish drew a breath before continuing her charge. She had yet to make any decent gain on the hell queen. Each of her attempts had been snubbed by the hard, energy absorbing metal the hell queen used. She wasn't daunted however, because little as it may have been, she was gaining ground. It was only a matter of time before Vali hung herself. Alastor flew from her hand, spinning end over end, buying her precious time. The blade flew to its quest glowing an intense electric blue, drawing Vali's attacks, testing her defense, occupying a majority of her attention. It was time enough for Trish to begin calling on her energy reserves. Her hands bloodied as she caught one of Vali's metal shards. It was a small price to pay, however, as the blade came back. She was more than prepared to execute her plan.

Engery orbs gathered on either side of Trish as she blocked two more whip like attacks. Hacking back at the second silver whip, she thrust the blade forward. Metal screamed against metal before Vali's second whip of the cat-o-nine tails shattered like crystal glass. The remains of the tendril fell like falling stars, glittering in the red light of the moon before they were engulfed in the swarming monsters. Snarling, Vali's cat-o-nine tails fell back at her bidding as she gathered herself for a final attack. Trish had so little time, but she could do it! Growling, she summoned the energy orbs, willing them to do her bidding.

The orbs-born of her aura-flew past Trish diving into the hole she had carved in Vali's defense for the moment. In a blink of an eye the orbs scattered flying into a meteor storm. Sparks of burning, electrified energy rained down on Vali; each frazzlement of the orbs detonating a thousand mini grenades.

Panting, Trish backed off. She could still smell Vali's scent. Could still feel her aura. Trish's skin was alive with the delicately sensitive feeling of hot and cold. Her lungs burned with each breath, the cold air chilling her yet the heat from alstor and the tingling numb feeling still in her fingers bore witness to her efforts. Catching her breath, the demonness tightened her grip on the pommel of the blade. She waited uneasily for the air to clear.

Pain. Sudden and unexpected, as most pain in demon slaying was. Metal driving through her palms, twisting around her arms, draining her strength. Tightening, Vali's cat-o-nine tails cut to the quick, wrapping about the entirety of her body, cutting skin and leather alike. Her legs were useless, her knee joints broken, tipped spikes having driven through them the wrong way. The same injuries stabbed at her ankles, at her wrists and elbow joints and shoulders. A spike drove through the base of her neck, making speech pointless and breathing unbearable.

"Come here little toy," Vali purred, jerking the whip. Trish came, as the whip bore her face to face with the hell queen. "You must be in a lot of pain," Vali commented, "but no matter." Growling Trish said nothing. Alistor raised, cutting air. Vali caught it, once handed. "You've been naughty little toy," Vali hissed, eyes flashing. "I never created you to be so disobedient."

"I'll send you to hell," Trish responded, struggling against the vice like cat-o-nine tails.

"I am the goddess of creation," Vali corrected, pulling the whip up. Swinging the cat-o-nine tails around her head, Vali snapped the weapon, making it pop. The weapon released Trish, hurtling her towards the earth. Silver flickered into being. Slowly the whip became absorbed into Vali's flesh, melding into her hand as if it had always been a part of her body. Silver metal crept into her scrollings and somehow fused with the red evil of Gabriel's influence there. Her short curly hair gained the luminescence of the metal. Her pupils became more than violet-green voids of insanity, gaining an unnatural metallic hue. The rules of this world were so easy to bend, when one had the power. She was the only living metallic organism now. Truly she was as unique as gods and therefore-as if there wasn't enough evidence to support the claim already-she was as a god would be. She had everything her heart could desire. And now the upstart would suffer. Silver shards poured from the sky, aimed at friend and foe alike. The little toy would feel this.

The air whistled in her ears, obscuring the sounds of everything else. Her knees ached more than anything else. There must have been metal sill there. She could feel tendons and bones struggling to knit together, despite the metal. Painful. And she was still falling. Alastor, forever faithful, followed her hand, yet maddeningly out of reach. Trish was confident she'd be okay but she was also equally confident that it was going to be difficult to land with useless legs and an enemy breathing down her neck.

Mind racing, Trish summoned her aura. A plan was forming in her thoughts. Maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn't, maybe, her life seemed hinged on a series of maybes and possibilities. It would be by her hand that she lived or perished. She could still see the dark cold hallway at Mallet Island. Her hand was on the door, slowly turning the knob. Puppet, the voice whispered. It would work. It had to work. Gritting her teeth, Trish kept falling, the cold unforgiving ground rushing up to meet her.

**Lauren**

It was chaos. Utter chaos. Served raw with a nice lemon tang. It's a sight so familiar and so alien at the same time, demons and angles all swarming over a darkened red sky. Battles and struggles breaking out in every direction, a mindless mob of fury. And in the center of it all, the bitch incarnate herself. _You must kill her_, Loki insists. You sound like a broken record. _Kill her or all is lost_, Loki replies. …I suppose some things are worse than pushing up daisies. Sighing, I hoisted myself out of the stone tub I had woken in. I was covered in dried blood, all of it belonging to me. Goddamn…how did I bleed this much? What did Vergil do to my body after he killed me? There wasn't this much blood before. I pushed the thoughts aside. I think it would be better if I continued to run on auto pilot for a while longer.

The ring on my middle finger hummed as I reached for Agni and Rudra. A prickly, numb feeling slowly traveled up my wrists and arms as my hand closed around the pommel. There was so much, whatever it was. _You are feeling the truest nature of a soul, this is a soul arm-this is a soul-in it's purest form while in the mortal realm._ Loki? _Yes?_ Shut up. Still I feel out with whatever sixth wonder I've gained recently. And yes. I can feel Agni and Rudra. I can feel them a lot.

"Mistress," Rudra greets me quietly.

"You two have been holding out on me," I retort flatly. My voice is dry and rusty. Agni snickers.

"We will gladly serve you Mistress," Agni swears, grinning. "You are more than strong enough now." Right, so now what??

"I see you've awakened." I know that voice.

"Raziel." I turn to face him. Rayne and Lucia are also there. Again he stares at me with green unnerving eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" Raziel asks coolly. "Attack Vali."

"Kiss my ass," I retort, resting a foot on the rim of the stone basin and leaning forward. Rudra flickers, flying from my hand. Together him and Rudra spiral outwards in tiny tornados of flame and wind. The blaze surrounds the four of us. It scorches demons and angels that were too close to begin with. After a moment the blades swing back to me, laughing insanely. I think this whole 'fading power' thing might have some serious benefits. A black hole surrounds us, free of demons. I glare at Raziel. "Think you can handle Vali's army?" Think you can cover my ass while I kill your freaking sister?

"Yes," Raziel replies, the wraith blade on his arm flickers into existence.

"Okay," I nod, "then let's go." I jump out of the tub. I feel so light, like my bones are made of air. Landing several feet away, is easy. My ankles don't hurt when I land. That's the first thing I noticed.

Agni and Rudra are ready in my hands. Here goes nothing. With out a further word, I ran. I was fast. Really fast. This is cool, but somewhat unnerving. I leapt, my foot crushing the skull of the nearest demon as I pushed sky ward. It's kinda a bitch getting that high without wings. Twisting mid air, I leapt again, sinking Agni into a seraphim. It screamed, as I pulled myself higher. Above me I could see them, in the middle of the thick, Dante and Vergil. Oh, are they going to get a piece of my mind.


	124. Severing the Bond

Right, sorry to draw this out longer than a DragonBallZ episode. Until school starts up…i think i'm averaging 1 update for every 3 weeks, do with that info as you will. Additionally, i regret to inform y'all that I don't have time to reply to reviews at the moment (I'm sorry!) just know that they are appreciated and I will find a way to make this up.

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**Dante**

Pain, lancing across his back. Twisting he sliced with rebellion, catching the tail end of yamoto and spattered intestines of a seraphim as Vergil crushed forward, slicing through the angel soldier to get at his twin. Raising a fist Dante gripped yamoto's pommel, hand crushing Vergil's as he absorbed the next attack aimed for his chest. Glaring Dante drew in his aura, preparing for a final assault. Vergil was having none of it. His other fist drove into Dante's skin, making his twin's head snap to the side. Falling back, Dante's foot rose sharply, catching Vergil unexpectedly. Ribs snapped as Vergil dodged backwards seconds too late.

Coming to a stand still, Dante faced Vergil. His own twin. He knew it would come to this, it always did. But how was it….how was it he could never understand his own flesh and blood? Or was it the fact that he understood all too well what Vergil wanted? What was the relationship between understanding and confusion, that fine line that separated them on sides time and time again? What was it about that shady grey area that inexorably led to this? Even now Vergil was grinning like a kid at Christmas, malice making the smirk far too familiar for comfort. Dante instinctively knew Vergil had come to a sudden epiphany, probably one he wouldn't want to hear.

"For all your strength, you are weak," Vergil commented. "You were right, some things will never change. You so desperately wanted someone to share your misery with." Blinking, Dante stared at Vergil, became aware of…no…that couldn't be…. _Trish_. He could smell her blood and then some. She didn't try to take on Vali on her own did she? He could have cursed. Of course she had. Since when _wouldn't_ Trish- "You call me cold yet your human emotions make you weak and predictable," Vergil interrupted, seeing Dante's thoughts drift. "How could you ever save anyone, let alone yourself? Is that what you're planning? Are you going to save her? That pathetic creature created in the image of our dead mother? How could you love that _thing_? How can you lie with it night after night and claim to live by the rules of your precious humans? You know how perverse humans would find that, how disgusting they would find that. How could you dare claim to be so naive? How can you claim to be anything other than what you are: a demon wearing the flesh of a human?"

Dante simply smirked at the accusation, letting the words fall against his ears before sliding off into the chilly night air. Without fail the argument always came full circle. And Vergil said he was predictable. There was never any satisfactory answer and that was why, time and time again, they would always come to this point. Maybe his twin was right about Trish, maybe it was fucked up. But then again, what the hell did Vergil ever have to hold onto? What in the hell did his brother ever have to come home to other than darkness, dust, and crumbling memories? Did Vergil have anything aside from his insane dreams of strength? What was that nameless thing that needed so much strength for protection? And what was it Vergil was protecting in the first place? The past was dead. Dante had made his own peace with that in his own way. Some things really _did_ change and that was the point to it all: that things _could_ change. In the end, all he could do was laugh and hope in some way, his twin would understand someday.

"Me? Naïve? Twenty plus years in hell and you can't even tell the difference between our mother's soul and that of a demon's." Dante spit blood from his mouth, swearing. "That's fucking dense Verg. Trish never had our mother's light, never had that thing that makes humans so damn breakable. She's never broken like our mom did and you know that." Dante shrugged, knowing the flippant motion would only irritate Vergil. "Are you so sure of yourself? Maybe you're just a weak human wearing the skin of demon."

**Lauren**

It was too easy doing this, frog skipping from one demon or angel to the next. How is this possible? The price for this was steep, but was it enough to foot the bill? Something like this comes with out a price, and putting Vergil's pig sticker moment aside for the moment, would something like the power of the goddess of death come with such a little price?? There's more to this, there has to be. Whatever. I pushed the unease away. I really don't have time for it. I flipped landing easily on the back of another gigapede. Running up it's spine, my eyes trailed skywards.

Dante and Vergil had stopped fighting for a moment. I smirked, imagining Agni sinking into Vergil's side, burning flesh and leather armor. I could hit him, deck him even, and show him what it felt like to be so damn powerless. No one's ever buffaloed me like that since I left Silent Hill. Does he even know what it feels like? To be that weak against someone you thought you could trust? I'll fucking kill him. Slowly. That's a promise.

_Don't play the fool. We don't have time for your petty revenge games. _Loki's voice whispered sternly.

Right, she wants me to be the bigger person and just let this slide by? To walk away and not do anything about it? Fuck that. Mercy only belongs to those who know they've screwed up big time. Knowing Vergil, he's justified everything, there's an ends to a means in this for him and he wouldn't give a fuck about mercy. He has no use for it.

I'm not going to let him get away with this. He's going to understand what it's like to suffer. He's going to know what that feels like. One way or another.

_I hold the strings to your life yet, little fragment_. Loki commented. My heart was on fire. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it did make me pause for a moment. Every heart beat served to drain the strength from my body. In few seconds my heart began to skip several beats. _Sheath your little bladed toys and take up maelstrom. Do so now or perish._ Vergil, what kind of hell did you put me in?

"Fucking bitch," I snarl under my breath, sheathing Agni and Rudra. The pain left, the strength returned. Just like a teeter totter bobbing up and down, everything has it's equilibrium. I lick Vali's shoes, she let's me live.

_That's the general understanding of our current contract,_ Loki agreed. Guess that makes me a fast learner. The ring on my middle finger hummed as I slid it off with my thumb. In a moment I was holding the silver scythe from before. The scrollings in the cold metal reflected the red light of the moon. Picking up the pace, I leapt for the next demon. I'm so close to them. So close.

**Vergil**

The words, spoken out loud, sounded like the makings of a curse. Snarling Vergil shot forward, yamoto drawn. Not many would have with stood the ensuing attack. It was perhaps the single most deadliest blow he commanded.

The swarming monstrosities around them fell to pieces, the blood oozing from diminutive fractures before gushing in short lived fountains. They all bled out, silently dying, frozen in the last innate and dull moment of their worthless, order-driven existences. He could hear the blood gurgling in Dante's throat as yamoto was slowly sheathed. The blade clicked. Dante's life blood began to corse from a long gash across his chest. Swallowing thickly, Dante chuckled, raising a bloodied hand to study it, seemingly lost in thought. The fool hadn't even bothered an attempt at blocking his assult.

"You think that'll stop me? I'm going to her Verg." Still laughing. The idiotic sap was still laughing. Eyes narrowing Vergil faced Dante now. Dante grinned like an idiot child who'd failed to grow up. He grinned like the moron Vergil feared he would always be, despite the blood and the sweat and the grit and grime. "You said it yourself, this isn't worth it. And you're not worth it either, Verg. This fight isn't worth it, not worth a damn thing. Do me a favor, take a look in the mirror," The Sparda sword fell from Dante's hand, "and get a fucking life. You have nothing to gain from this Verg, because you never have anything to lose. How pointless is that? You're more fucked than I am."

With that this twin was gone, falling head first. Falling after the construct, he realized. Dante ever the tragically brave and heroic knight. It made him sick. He didn't follow Dante. He couldn't and wouldn't. For all intents and purposes, Dante might as well be dead. Sparda had fought for the humans and so little Dante would follow in his footsteps, how naively sentimental. Before his legacy on Earth Sparda had been one of the bloodiest tyrants to serve under Mundus. There were places in hell that still bore the cruel tales and rumors of Sparda's cruelty. How black and white did Dante see this world? Did he not know what could be gained? Some things never would change. He hadn't realized the extent of this notion until he had fully considered it.

**Lauren**

The blade nearly cut my hand in half as a reached out for the pommel. What was going on? Dante would never give up the blade. Not willingly. Laughter carried on the screaming wind. Then, like a blaze, Dante fell towards me. What was he? I paused for a moment. Did Vergil…Dante was his brother….his twin… The sparda sword was heavy and slick with blood as I held it. Whether the blood was Dante's or Vergil's I didn't know. Dante will need this weapon. There's not a chance in hell I'm giving it to Vergil.

"Hey kid, watch yourself," Dante called to me, winking. His eyes were laughing, his mouth was smirking, but he looked seriously determined. "I've gotta bail on you. My date's calling." What?

_You don't have the time for this_, Loki growled. Sighing, I pushed on, leaping for the next stepping stone. Looks like the sparda sword is coming with me.

**Vergil**

"Vergil." It was softer than the wind yet carried all the malice he might expect. He knew that voice. It was a voice that was long over due. Turning, he prepared himself to face the next challenge, knowing what he would find. There would be no mercy. Just as she would give none in return.

A blade. A silver blade. One he vaguely remembered from a nightmare. Black hair, tight frowning mouth, the amerhurst pulsing at his wrist in recognition. A sting at his side even as he reached for yamoto. The shrew actually managed to recrack his rib. Damn the woman. A smirk tugged at his mouth. One couldn't fault her for consistency.

She was gone as quickly as she came, which was surprising in itself. His father's sword-she must have claimed the weapon when Dante relinquished it-gripped in one hand, the silver blade stained with his blood in the other. Lauren, handle the Sparda Sword? Not likely. Still she was smart. Only the damn sword-and little else-would have prompted him to follow her. Very well, if the little girl wanted to play war games, so be it. No doubt she had no idea what she was doing. Killing a god was a serious matter. Inevitably she would fail at the matter at hand. Her entire existence was a series of failed attempts and missed second chances.

Hmph. It would seem everything would work out. With Vali out of the way, hell would need a new emperor. And yet it was about so much more than that. But wasn't that always the original goal? So many things would transpire by the end of tonight, but he would have his freedom. Drawing yamoto, Vergil flew.

**Trish**

It wasn't going to work. She couldn't gather enough energy for it. The damn shards. Vali hadn't simply attacked her with the metal, the hell queen had also leeched away at her reserves. Five minuets, that's all it would take to gain back what she lost. Major human cities had been lost in under 20 seconds to natural disasters. About the same amount of time it would take her to hit the ground. At the rate she was going at, there's wouldn't be much left over to bury. Time relativity. Shit.

_Shit_. Trish really wasn't fond of using curse words. She could get the point across with out the colorful language most of the time. But this…going out like this…goddammit. Fuck. Fucking hell. Fucking bitch. The wind was howling in her ears and making her eyes water. …Dante… She'd remember it all. Remembered it all and cherished it. Two short years, it had been fun. Rainstorms and snow, lightning and that time the power had gone out because of hail. The first case she'd worked with him. The way candle light danced on broken glass and mirrors. The way warm water felt, cascading over her head after a hard day. The softness of worn sheets that always smelled like him and leather and the cheap detergent that was kept near the old washing machine. The creaky floorboards that always gave away his footsteps. Goddammit. Goddammit. Not like this. Her knee twinged, complaining still. Trish ignored it. _Goddammit_.

"I leave you alone for a second and the bad guys reduce you into a sobbing, hysterical female." Arms wrapping around her. The ground slowing it's rushing charge. "You know, you cut pretty cute picture," Dante commented. "Not that you're fooling anyone."

"Dante Sparda," Trish said.

"Yeah babe?"

"… … …. …." She tried, mouth dropping open before snapping shut, but nothing came. Not a single comeback or taunt or word of gratitude, not that she would have even considered the latest. Perhaps it wasn't the brightest thing she could have said, but…well…he'd lord this over her and she knew it. She could hear it already, 'Look at lady Trish, getting her ass kicked by the baddies.' She'd make him pay for this, one way or another…preferably without swords or motorcycles for once.

Dante laughed, devil triggering. The ground loomed less than three stories away. Claws gripped her side almost painfully as Dante pulled up sharply. They landed safely, softly, and silently on the ground. Alistor dug a hole in the earth, the pommel nearly embedding itself in the war torn ground.

"Yeah okay," Dante replied easily to her silence, gently lowering her to the earth. "No teasing the delicate female just yet, but you know? Someone has to watch out for your lame ass."

"I'll make you pay for this Dante," Trish coughed.

"Hold that thought, babe," Dante smirked. "We've still got a job to do." The demon slayer rose, reaching for Alistor's hilt. The blade swung onto his shoulder with long time familiarity as he looked to the sky. "Enough fucking around, let's get to work." Dante glanced over his shoulder, raising a playful eyebrow, "Cover me?" Wincing Trish pulled the metal piece from her knee. Tossing it aside, she rose, however haphazardly, to her feet.

"Always."


	125. Medusa's Law

holy shit i updated...wow...well i have a viable excuse this time: my computer is busted. tears. it's been sent in to the workshop, but until i get it back, let's all give a big round of applause to public libraries, shall we? Enjoy the overdue update.

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I want her to takes his eyes out, just for looking at you

And I want her to take his hands off, just for touching you

And I want to rip his heart out, just for hurting you

And I want to break his body, right now,

Yes I do

I want her to make him regret the day since he met you

I want her to make him take back all that he took from you

I want to rip his heart out, just for hurting you

And I want to break his body right now

Yes I do

-Just For, Nickelback

**Lauren**

Maelstrom's edge ground against the metal of Vali's hand, her living hair coiled at twisted down her back, thrashing through the air. The blow didn't even leave a scratch. Was her skin metal? Or was it flesh? Was there any difference between the two? What the hell is she?

_Something less than what she once was_, Loki replied quietly. _The power of Gabriel is controlling her. She's drunk on her own existence…just as my father was._ Loki paused for a moment. _She is tearing the barrier separating life and death, she must_ _be stopped. I am too weak to fight back with out maelstrom. Hasten your efforts. The dead were not meant to walk with the living._

Twisting I dropped Dante's sword, avoiding the rapid stabs of coiled tentacle hairs. Lifting a foot, I blocked a blow with the heel of my boot. The force of it reverberated up my leg and flipped me backwards through the air. She had been aiming for my lower torso. Momentum gone, I began to fall, tumbling head over heals. Where the hell did Vali get her hair gel? Falling though the air I pulled Maelstrom in close. Better question: how exactly do I use maelstrom as a weapon? I don't have experience backing me when it comes to this kind of weapon. Did someone say children of the corn?

"Going somewhere?" Vali crooned. The long misshapen strands that had once been her fingers twinned around my wrist, coiling up Maelstrom's staff. Her skin was sharp, shallowly cutting the flesh of my hands. It was going to take more than brunt force to kill this bitch. "Allow me to show you the true power of a Goddess."

"Kiss my ass," I snapped back, drawing Maelstrom up across her face as hard as I could manage. I felt something give. A woman at heart-just as I guessed-Vali released me screaming. Her hands over her face, she recoiled, ignoring me. Go figure. It was the same move that had worked on Linda. And just like Linda, I completely missed slitting her throat by inches. I've got to work on that. Digging the tip of Maelstrom into a blood goat, I hurtled through the air, my arms screaming from the effort it took reverse directions and vault back towards Vali. I must be out of my goddamn mind. Hands dropping from her face to glare at me, through the blood leaking down her face. I caught a glimpse of what I had done to her before my boots hit her solar plexus. Grunting, Vali reached for me, absorbing the entirety of the blow. She didn't give way to my attack. Rather she reached for my ankle.

"What did you do to my face?" She snarled darkly. "Fool. I am a goddess." The deep ugly cut tracing from her chin, between her eyes and curving across her right temple began to close. Her blood glowed red as muscle covered bone and the scratch healed away into nothingness. Twisting my ankle until the bones gave, her arm lashed back. Grunting, I held on to Maelstrom if just barely. Arm driving forward, she threw me, thrusting me towards the ground. The dust pile remains of the stone hedge flew towards me as demon screams echoed above the wind. Shit. Now what?  
"Is the little human giving in so easily?" a voice asked dryly. "You can do better than this." It _couldn't_….actually…yeah it would be…Just shoot me. Snarling I chopped the air, maelstrom's edge completely flying clear of him. Hand grasping the same cut up wrist Vali had reached for, Vergil spun me in close. Releasing Maelstrom, I lashed out with a fist, catching him in the jaw. My knuckles cracked as his head twisted to the side from my fist. God that felt so good.

"Don't make me laugh," Vergil retorted coolly. His other hand circled around my throat as he tore Maelstrom from my grasp. I could see Dante's sword sheathed at his back. I know I dropped it, but did I just give him the one thing he wanted? Why would Vergil want Dante's sword? Was he in this with Vali? Had they both planned this from the very beginning? Hands around his wrist, I struggled to release myself. I couldn't breath and the ground was rushing towards us. Some days…you're the bug or you're the windshield….

"You're so stupid when you're emotional," Vergil growled, eyes flickering red. "It makes you weak. You could never handle my father's sword, you pathetic woman." Releasing my throat Vergil gripped the cuff of my shirt, yanking me forward until I was trapped against him, Maelstrom's staff pressed against my back almost painfully. Spinning and twisting we rose, flying away from the ground. Vergil's wings churned through the air as Vali laughed. WTF?

"Survive this you fools!" Vali grinned as the aura around her swelled into an ugly miasma. Sweeping an arm out Vali unleashed a massive aura attack. I recognized it. It was the same attack she used to level Pandora's. Shards of metal rained down from the sky, puncturing demons, angels…everything that lay in her path. Not even Vergil or I was immune to it, which, honestly, that was the point of it all in the first place. Shards seared their way into my skin, my fingernails, and my earlobes. My arms and legs burned as each new shard introduced it self as intimately as it could manage. My ankle and wrist screamed at the added injury.

_Summon Armor Purity!_ Loki insisted. Her voice became lost in Vali's insane laughter. We fell as much as we flew. I don't remember the entirety of the fall, I must have blacked out for a couple of seconds. I do remember Vali's shards raining down on the earth relentlessly. In the middle of it all, Vali's nails sliced downwards, severing me from Vergil and tearing the fabric of my armor and shirt. Her hair flowed like metal snakes, whipping against my skin and leaving red bleeding trails down my arms.

Tumbled, tossed, and thrown, head over heels until the force of momentum ceased, slamming me into rock bed. Vision wavering I lifted my head slowly. I could feel parts of my body literally sewing itself back together after Vali's brutality. Maelstrom was gone. So were Agni and Rudra. Vali graced me with a smirk, her feet touching the ground. She was a thing out of a B rated horror flick. Her hair, the medusa coils of hell, snapped like whips. Her hands elongated even more as she eyed me, extorting into hooked claws. Even her height was altered. She towered an easy seven or eight feet high.

Spitting out blood, I struggled to rise up on a busted wrist and bleeding arms. My foot, the ankle Vali had broken, bitched about being moved. I had landed on it wrong. Vali waited, watching me painfully struggle. I wasn't moving. Not like I should have been, even with the extra healing. Between one breath and the next, her foot was 3 inches from the tip of my nose as she teleported. Oh hell, are you telling me she was just playing with me this entire time? Rolling I staggered to my feet, now ignoring the pain as Vali's foot stomped down. A small crater graced the earth I had just occupied. I faced her, falling into a defensive stance. I'm still strong, even after that beating. I can still take-

"This time you stay dead, fragment." Her nails pushed through, coming out my stomach. I heard vertebrae snap and felt organ tissue squish together. Blood filled the gullet of my throat as I tried to breath. Vali smirked, her metal flesh beginning to heat as she breathed on the back of my neck. Oh, god…it burns…

**Raziel**

He left the women behind, they were too slow. Too slow in carving a pathway to the objective at hand. With luck, Vali would be too occupied to notice.

"How does it feel, _human_? Did you think you could defeat me? Can you feel it? That breaking sensation cracking its way throughout your body? Do you know what that is?" Vali's croon was deep seated in her throat. Her cruel inclination of toying with her prey would be the end of her. Silently the wraith blade flickered into existence.

"That's your soul, you worthless pond scum, and it's shattering. I'm breaking your soul apart, and piece by piece, you'll become another one of my servants." His niece gagged, struggling to draw air. "You didn't know that did you?" Vali asked conversationally, her voice sweetened tones of honey. "All the willful servants Mundus sent to me, I bent to follow my will. Simple brainwashing doesn't work on the strong now does it, pond scum? I'm going to shatter you soul, I'm going to make you into a homunculus. I've sent thousand year old demons crying like human infants, the pain is so great when your soul shatters. Are you going to cry when I break your soul? Does it please you to know that you will only live at my indulgence and serve me-in any way that I require-with out question? My little homunculus pond scum, what do you think of that?"

"Fuck you," his niece responded, gasping for air. Vali froze, her mouth shutting. Slowly the gloating smirk fell away into hardness.

"You're getting careless, _sister_." Raziel hissed, panting. The soul reaver wavered between existence and fantasy, a deep green and sky blue. The precious light sliding down it's length-that of God's latest incarnation-shown ghostly white as the young soul came to a rest at the blade's pommel. Yanking, Raziel pulled the blade out of Vali's womb, allowing the sword to dissipate and retreat up his arm. The wound glowed a greenish red color before healing over completely.

"You dare interfere?" Vali demanded her turning to glance over her shoulder.

"How could I not?" Raziel replied. His eyes narrowed, flaring a deep emerald in his quiet rage. "You murdered mother," he stated softly.

"And I'd do it again," Vali growled. "Did you really think absorbing that little soul would stop me? Yanos collected so many more. Losing one means little to me. That infant's soul had little awakened its power anyways."

"Bitch!" A fist slammed into the former hell queen's jaw, throwing a surprised Vali to the side. Her hand came free from Loki's fragment, bloodied and misshapen. Deftly Raziel stepped back, avoiding the goddess's tumble. "What did you do to Gabe?" Lauren demanded turning to him. Scrollings glowed red in her skin, bordering on a translucent white color.

"His is soul is safe now, I give you my word," Raziel replied evenly. "Take care of Vali and you may live to see him again."

**Loki**

_This is the place._ The dark hallway stretched long and sinuous before them, the circular stairways leading down and down and down.

"Do I even want to know what is down there?" Eva asked peering into the murky depths.

_Only a few have ever been here beside me. Those that trespass in their folly, never leave here, be they alive or dead._ The dark goddess commented.

"Comforting," Eva responded dryly.

_This is the place Vali will come to first. I must hide away that which is stored here._

"I fail to see how you need us," Sparda replied, his voice a quiet rumble.

_My family has long acted as the guardians not only of human kind, but of all races, all creeds, all that ever was and, as unlikely as it seems, all that ever will be. We were first to arrive to this place, we encouraged life here. More importantly, we walked behind the shadows of history's greatest events. With a tug of a string, we have toppled empires or pushed a peasant girl into the role of a hero and from there a tangle web of glory. You know this, demon, as it was I you made a pact with so many centuries ago._ Loki paused for a moment. _My own tapestries of intrigues, those shadow ways between one era of humanity and the next, the secrets so many souls have taken to their graves, they are all my strings and my manipulators. Several of the sources of my omnipotence, if you will. Vali must not get her hands on them. _Eva sighed.

"Even dead, the work is never done."

"You'll manage to cope," Sparda replied, a small smirk on his mouth.

_Shall we?_ Loki asked, taking the first step down the spiral stair case.

**Dante**

He was still catching his breath as he pushed forward. The wound on his chest stung slightly, still healing. The blood trickle was making it hard to concentrate on running. Vergil really had given that last one his all. Alistor arched upwards, the tip of the blade slicing deep into the shoulder of the blood goat. Spinning, Dante aimed for the mid way, Alistor cleaving through the demon's abdomen like a heated knife through butter. Black blue demon blood sprayed across the ground and he and Trish left the body behind. He could see her head of them, Vali the hell bitch spawn. Usually he didn't hit ladies, but the term hardly applied in this case.

"Get out of my face," Trish roared, bringing both Rudra and Agni down hard. A wall of fire leapt out before them, burning a clear cut towards the final area of the face off.

"We found the kid," Dante commented casually.

"Who the fuck cares?" Trish retorted snarling. "When I get my hands on that bitch-" Dante's laughter cut her off.

"Well in that case…"

"Shut the hell up," Trish snarled back, taking a pryomancer out with her shotgun. "Don't you dare think that was anything more than a fluke."

"You're so cute when you're pissed," Dante retorted smirking, cutting down a seraphim.

"Goddammit Dante."

"Man up Trish," Dante retorted, the laughter gone now. They were closing in on the hellqueen. "Time to kick some ass."


	126. Drawn Together, Falling Apart

Finally got my computer back from the fixer shop! (Sorry for the wait but it was out of my control!) So here's a new chappie!! Have fun!

* * *

**Lauren**

Like stray bullets, Dante and Trish shot past me, doing what they did best. Fast, insane, and efficient. Coming at her from two different directions, both their blades quickly became embedded in Vali's shoulder and her stomach. Trish was using Rudra? How did she? _Take up Maelstrom!_ Loki snapped. _It is there on your finger, you fool! One can never truly lose one's own soul arm!_ Looking down I saw she was right. Slipping the ring from my middle finger, I held Maelstrom's staff tightly, the metal chilling my hands. It made up for the burning hole still closing in my gut. Holding back a gag, I fell into a stance, watching the battle for my opportunity. I'm starting to feel a light headed…that can't be a good sign…

Growling, Trish drew Agni, aiming for Vali's neck, like I had. She was buying time for Dante to back off and unleash Ebony and Ivory. Smirking, Vali caught Trish's wrist, twisting her arm until Trish was off balance. Turning, Vali threw the demon slayer over her shoulder. By then Dante's guns were dead center with Vali's left temple. The gun blasts sounded so loud up close. Vali's head jerked to the left from the impact. She stumbled but remained on her feet, even with the hail storm of bullets Dante showered down on her. Jumping, the power of the guns' recoils kept Dante aloft. Even when he finally did land, Dante didn't stop firing as he charged Vali. For her part, Vali fought fire with fire, using her own shit storm of metal shards to cancel out Dante's bullets. By then I was moving. Just in time for Vali to begin gathering her aura.

"Be gone," she snarled, her aura cascading off her person in a wave. The pulse went outward, pushing Dante backwards. Dante stayed on his feet, braced against the attack, but he wasn't firing. His blood was coating the front of his leather armor, dipping quietly onto the ground as the wound healed. Trish, still getting to her feet, barely had time to fend off the attack as she slide backwards across the ground. The blades in Vali's body loosed from the pulse, sending both Alastor and Rudra flying.

Easily Dante grasped the hilt of Alastor, circling the blade's hilt around his hand as he reholstered ebony. The aura pulse continued to push outward, getting closer. However, it was only horizontal, which was where I came in. Hopefully I can buy enough time. Maybe I'll even be the one who gets to off the bitch.

Jumping I brought Maelstrom down, hoping to cleave a hole through Vali's spine. At the very least, I should cause as much damage as Dante and Trish. I grit my teeth together, willing her not to feel it coming with a turned back. No luck. Twisting, Vali caught Maelstrom on the staff, just below the blade. Jerking the weapon away, her fist drove into my cheek. As I fell to the side she brought the staff end up, impaling the damn weapon in my shoulder. The pain was immense. Adreniline did little to cover the fact. Goddamn. I can't use Maelstrom if all it does is hinder me. Laughing, Vali jerked, finally releasing her hold on maelstrom, and threw me backwards into Trish. Dodging, Trish continued her frontal attack even as I was tossed aside.

Dante charged again, with Trish at his side. Alastor and Agni cut through the air as the two clashed with Vali. Their relative weapons struck Vali's hooked hands. A small light flickered, gold and red gritting against an ugly violet red green color. That light, it's their auras, in their most physical forms. Holy shit. Dumbstruck, I stare at the three of them. How the hell do I compete with that?

**Raziel**

The small soul flickered. He studied the small object with a clairvoyant gaze. The soul appeared to be undamaged from it's stay in Vali's corporeal body, but what tortures had the soul endured with in Vali's psyche? Had Vali inherently corrupted the child's soul? Only time would be a real test in that particular matter. For now, it would do better to wait and to watch. The soul would be reborn, that was easy enough. Human cloning-though prohibited in this particular human domain-was a perfected process. It was only a matter of laying low for the time being. He would take his leave of this affair. After all, he had his own particular role to play in this tangled tapestry called life.

**Vergil**

The last of the shards came free, the wound itself now nothing more than a faint memory and the pain even less than that. He could feel them, no doubt thanks to the Amerhurst, better than he should have. Vali was contending with Dante, Trish, and Loki's frag-Lauren...Vali's biggest threat and greatest weakness was Lauren. Or more specifically, Lauren's _potential_ was a threat. And he knew how Vali dealt with threats, more intimately than he'd care to remember or admit.

The sparda sword came easy into his hand, a simple side swing of the blade enough to slit the swarming hordes more fine than the angel Metatron. With yamoto safely sheathed at his side, there was little that would chance standing in his way now. Goddamn the woman, Lauren never had been strong enough to deal with her own problems. It would seem he would become the ruler of hell by his own hand.

**Lucia**

The severed goat horns forked into the ground, just missing the hell queen. Vali's attempt at avoiding the attack was enough for the dual devil slayers to easily reposition themselves and the get the drop. Alastor arched, Dante back hand hold on the pommel making the blade streamline as he spun. Red aura lit the ground like lightning. Dark blood sprayed across the ground, Vali's stomach gaping open through a new hole. Trish spun Agni in the palm of her hand before letting the weapon slide forward, spinning end over end until it drove into Vali's thigh. Gripping the weapon's handle, Trish wrenched the weapon, twisting it as she pulled in out. Bone cracked as yellow electricity flowed down the blade. Hissing Vali went down on one knee, the thigh Trish had attacked crippled to the point of near amputation. Tossing ivory over to Trish, Dante crushed forward, Alastor's tip seeking a new fleshy home as Trish began to pool crackling auric energy into the gun. Lucia landed then, at the hellqueen's back, feathers thick along her arms. With talon tipped hands, Lucia reached for her dual blades.

"Don't think it will be so easy," Vali chuckled. Her left arm shot forward, the flesh and bones stretching impossibly, unreasonably long. She reached for Dante, matter of her hand bending to follow her thoughts. Her hand grew in size until it fell down around the devil hunter like a sheet of muddy skin. Roaring, Alastor flashed, the blade shining before Vali's skin completely overwhelmed him.

Screaming, Trish began to fire off ivory with abandon, charging. Smirking, Vali's right hand came forward, stretching and distorting as well. Swiping low, Trish went flying, ivory falling from her hand as she was thrown aside. Crowing, Lucia's blades slammed down into Vali's shoulders as the demonness wrapped her legs about Vali's waist. Howling Vali spun, striving to dislodge Lucia. Gunshots rang through the air, ivory smoking in Trish's hand, as blue lightning flickered from under the skin parachute Vali's left hand had become.

Tip first, the flesh of Vali's arm broke into nothingness as Dante emerged. Recoiling, rising on two fully healed legs, Vali reached, fingers entangling in Lucia's hair before throwing the demonness into Dante. The two went down in a tangled bloody heap.

"You will all suffer to your last," Vali promised them, the bloody stump of her arm gushing. Her was face pale and freckled with blood. The madness was evident in her eyes, shining with the soul of a crazy god. With a wet sound, a new arm grew from the ragged stump of her left arm. Clenching the new hand into a fist, Vali's aura began to swell once again. "I promise you this. You will beg me for death. Like dogs, you will beg."

**Rayne**

"Aw, you're leaving already?" she asked coolly, the tip of her blade digging lightly into the small of his back. "We haven't even broken out the wine yet."

"Yes, but you've had far too much, and I, nothing at all," Raziel replied, glancing over his shoulder. The bat like wings at his back unfurled, spreading to their fullest width.

"But I want more," Rayne smiled, her fangs showing. "You should know I always want more."

"That's a shame. Gluttony is a sin." Hissing, Rayne with drew the weapon, frustrated yet not quite daring to strike down the ex-wraith.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"I will settle your questions later," Raziel replied turning to her.

"Settle them now," Rayne demanded, blades rising. She smirked, pausing for a moment, "Or you'll never be rid of me."

"Then so be it," Raziel retorted flatly. A clawed hand reached out, grasping the dhampire's neck, the talons of his nails not quite breaking the flesh. Hissing Rayne sunk her blades into the angel's skin. Unflinching Raziel drew her close.

"You will find me at Mallet. I will be there with this little soul. You will have all the answers you seek about soul transfers if you will swear to aid me. However, I would ask that you think my proposal over. It is not a light contract and will not break as easily as you would like, Rayne." Releasing the dhampire, Raziel stepped back, his ethereal weapon summoned forth from the spirit realm. Struggling to breathe still, Rayne knelt, her eyes red as the angel disappeared between the boundaries of the worlds, taking the newest incarnation of god's soul with him.

**Lauren**

Panting I wrapped my hands around Maelstrom. Oh god, this hurts so much. Gritting my teeth and holding my breath, I began to pull out Maelstrom. It wasn't working. The tipped end came to a halt against my shoulder blade as I started to black out. I can't do this. I can't get it out on my own.

"Get to your feet." His voice was cold, disgusted. It sent chills down my spine like it had the first time I'd spoken with him. A hand, under my arm, pulling me up and more pain. Maelstrom was gone, out of my shoulder. A weird strangled sound, between a cry and a whimper carried to my ears. That was me, I was whimpering. My stomach still hasn't healed all the way. My shoulder feels dislocated. I'm not having a good night.

"Do you expect sympathy?" Vergil demanded, releasing me. Nauseated I sat to my knees. I think I might throw up. This is blood loss. I can't believe this. I'm getting sick from blood loss. "Sever the pain, get up," Vergil commanded coldly, "and fight. Or forfiet your life a second time."


	127. Begin Again

We move for all mankind,

A million miles from everything we've ever known  
and we're on their hearts and minds,

A million heads are bowed to bring us safely home  
hemmed in by emptiness,

A million ways that everything could be undone  
this hollow in my chest is filled with reasons not to sing

But I found one, I know

-music box, Thrice

**Lauren**

"I feel sick," I muttered. I could feel a small grin twisting my mouth into a bitter curl. He can kill me all he wants. I'm so tired all of the sudden. I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want my family back. If he kills me, I'll get to see them all that much sooner. "You deal with it," I tell him softly. "Vali's your fucking family mistake. Now let me sleep." And I am falling asleep, just sitting here on the cold, scarred earth. It is so easy falling quietly into darkness. _You must avoid Oblivion! Even I cannot reach you there! Listen to me, my fragment! Listen!_ But even Loki's voice was fading away. Vergil was speaking. I can't hear him. I don't care. _Summon Armor purity! You fool! Oblivion is the negation of a soul's longevity! _Loki's screams sounded like a whisper. It's so quiet. The blackness behind my eyelids offers a new kind of release, even as the cold musty dirt hits the back of my head. I hardly feel the small complaint of my skin as I fall back into the dirt. I don't really give a damn at this point. It's not quiet sleeping, it's not exactly dying. I don't know what to call it, but it's better than hurting with no end in sight.

And in the darkness I hear something. Music.

It was everything, a deep rhythm I could feel in my bones. What is this? Who is whispering so quietly? What language is that? But questions-like thinking, existing and feeling-all fall into that secondary column of caring. And right now I don't care. All I _do_ care about is the music-mainly because it's not costing me a thing to listen to it-and that there's a new thing in it. I can hear a voice accompanying the music. The voice is speaking, whispering, murmuring and singing occasionally, words and meanings tumbling them over each either like water over river bed stones. Each sound soothing enough to calm the numb pain, that of it which is still existent enough for me to attempt to ignore. I don't know what it says, I don't know what language it's in for that matter, but I can understand it. If I just listen long enough I can hear the voice, nearly drowning in the music, but I can understand it. Slowly I can pull meaning from the voice. With every fiber of my being I _know_ I can understand it, if I just _try_. Like a phantom limb, it calls out to me. Filling a void, a hollow space where something should be. Is it a missing piece to something I lost? I don't think so. No it's something so basic you can't really lose it. Not really. It's a Soul. More specifically it is my soul and perhaps, more importantly, it isn't my soul. It is my Soul Arm. The armor of one's soul, the tuff outer shell of spikes and plated titanium meant to keep invaders off. Maelstrom. Its Maelstrom's voice. This is what a soul arm is? A true extension of your corporeal shell and the intangible soul it houses at its most basic form. Maelstrom. Unrest and discord incarnate, a violent storm destroying all in its path, bad weather and ill intent. The curvature of disaster and justice and retribution embodied in a single metal weapon. Not all power, but simply a tool. A very useful tool. I am Maelstrom's wielder now but how can I use you? How do I use something so violent?

The music is given shape and form, slowly eeking an existence in the blackness. Silver scrollings. Red scrolling, Black and golden Skrollings. Green scrolling, purple scrolling, red and orange scrollings. The incantation of life written by the light, it was to serve as a shield against the dark. Yet everything began in the dark, creation and existence began in the dark, _life_ began in the dark. Then the song of life endowed life with wisdom and beings were spawned from both the light and the dark. My family has always existed encouraging the light and the dark to interact, to become what it was not, to evolve. The chaos is a harbinger for evolution, only through strife does light and dark exceed its limitations. It is a fundamental truth that life is a paradox. No more than we start, we are shot down and lay dead, only to be picked up by rebirth and begin the merry dance once again. All in the name of enlightenment. All this and more Maelstrom sang to me. A soul arm's true nature is…interesting… What else can a dead goddess's weapon do?

I know what I have to do now. I don't know if I can do it, but I'll give it a shot. The scrollings, mine and your's, we can use them. Yes, I see. I understand. But please, stay with me Malestrom, you're the only one I can trust and the only one I can turn to. Help me, give me your strength, and together, we'll slaughter every fucker Loki sends me after.

**Vergil**

She was awakening, and perhaps more importantly, controlling the soul arm Maelstrom. No wonder she'd failed so miserably thus far. An incomplete connection with one's own soul arm was as close to death as one could stray to in the mortal realm. Not that something like her was either living or dead. Still, she was so foolish, borderline naivety on the verge of complete incompetence. How could you garner strength from a weapon that would reject you? Absolutely useless. Didn't she even understand the basics of a soul arm?

Slowly Yamoto came unsheathed. The scythe, technically her scythe would be little use to him in several moments. Her skin writhed with white scrollings. He could feel her aura reaching for the weapon, grasping for it, just as the scythe responded to her calls, however weak. Then her eyes were open. She glared at him from on her place in the dirt.

"Give it to me." She demanded. He could have laughed.

"The world is not so kind, little girl," He replied dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Get to you feet."

"Fuck you. Give me Maelstrom," She snapped, scrambling to rise. The scrollings in her skin flickered an eerie metallic color. The scythe, blood red scrollings, as if the two had swapped out their scrollings like two little giggling preschool children playing a practical joke.

"Give me the amerhurst fragment," he demanded coldly. He could feel the gem's aura swapping mercifully coming to halt. That was a mixed blessing he knew. She smirked, touching the gem lightly. It flickered slightly, a tired dull yellow, in response to her touch but otherwise remained dormant. So apparently coming into contact with her soul arm gave her additional benefits, she had knowingly stopped the aura swapping. No doubt she now knew what her fragment of the amerhurst was.

"Come and get it," she replied evenly.

"Don't play the fool. You lack skill and discipline Lauren, even now," Vergil replied flatly, eyes briefly flickering red. "Don't throw your existence away so cheaply." He tossed her the weapon. She caught it gingerly as if afraid it would break. He shook his head disgusted. This was Loki's fragment? What had happened to the blood hungry fiend he'd met in Silent Hill? "You have a specific role to play in this. Or was your feeble mind unable to grasp even that?"

"Someday Vergil," Lauren growled. She still wanted to settle the score then, did she? So be it. He had patience, more so than she'd believe him capable of, but it was there all the same. He could wait. Finishing her would always be easy, no matter her skill level.

"By all means," he retorted, chuckling, "continue to hold out hope." He paused for a minute, eyeing her. "Your humanity is so revolting."

"You think so?" Lauren asked, turning back towards the battle. She rested the scythe on her shoulder as she walked her back to him. He was right however, in believing she would leave without getting a word in. Sure enough, the woman paused for a moment and turned to him. She was so predictable. "You wanna know what's _really_ sick?" she demanded. "Someone so dead inside that they don't feel a goddamn thing. Someone who's so sick and fucked up that they don't care what they break in order to get what they want. And even then you're never satisfied, are you?"

"Be very cautious with your accusations," he warned her softly.

"Whatever you say Vergil." She shrugged before turning and walking away. She was lucky to be walking at all the ungrateful wench. Damn her to hell, to heaven, and any other conceivable torture. Briefly he closed his eyes. Her humanity had better not have been contagious through the amerhust. He'd be damned it if was. All the same, the sooner the amerhurst fragment was retrieved the better…but that wouldn't come until later. After a moment more he too began to walk. His presence in this battle was long overdue.

**The Fight**

Lucia screamed in pain, hands grasping at the metal skin making a kabob out of her side. White feathers flickered into existence, covering her skin, but it was for naught. The fiend was reeling her in. Boots grinding into the ground, devil trigger fully activated and the monster was still beating her. Trish was descending with her blades, easily Vali fended her off, hand rising to the point of impact. A flicker of her aura sent Trish reeling, tumbling through the air like a toy. Dante took her place, continuing the attack. Alastor cleaved through Lucia's shackles, completely severing Vali's hand for a second time, before the demon slayer moved in for a kill blow.

The wind screamed through the burnt remains. Snow now drifted in banks, rising knee high. The cold was impenetrable, numbing flesh to metal. The red hue of the sky made the moon look as if it was bleeding. The cold of death seeped out from the heaven's wounds, bathing its earthly sister in an unnatural coldness. Earthly things were never meant to withstand such abuse. But there was nothing earthly of the battle being laid on the line.

Alastor cut, once, twice, thrice. Dante showed no signs of backing down. If anything Vali had begun to give up ground, avoiding each blow in turn. Shifting to her left, she finally caught Alastor. The red aura in the blade crackled, both burning and melting the flesh of her hand. Vali glanced to her hand, clearly unimpressed by the aura eating the flesh of her limb.

"Pathetic, " Vali smirked.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Ebony still smoking, Dante charged, laughing but still not willing to give up his advantage no matter how slim it was. Half of Vali's face lay splattered on the ground in fleshy chunks as her scream was cut off prematurely.

"Was it as good for as it was for me, babe?" Dante snarled, smirking. Alastor sliced, cutting Vali in half, from crown to navel, before she'd had chance to heal. A thin smear of pink appeared, trickling down her throat and nose even as she began to fall backwards. The red cut halved her ruined face as her tilted head allowed blank eyes to stare at the dark sky. Yanking Alastor free, Dante moved to cut yet again. This wasn't going to be over until she lay in several pieces. The blade sank lower, blinking in its speed. He would kill her, go home, have a drink or two, then pass out for a week and never bother to venture any further than the kitchen and his bed. He'd done that for nearly a month after fighting Mundus. He just needed to finish this damn _job_.

The god's aura pulsed outward, never giving into death. He was an eternal being. None could kill him. Not these puny creatures, surely. In the blackness, his daughter jeered, urging him to slay their common enemy.

The heat was suffocating as Dante was thrown backwards. Alastor spiraled through the air, it's tip not quiet driving into the ground as the blade scittered and sank into the snow banks. Hands clenching, Dante rose to his feet to greet a truly…interesting….sight. Reaching down, he unearthed Alastor. Vali was healed, the golden aura of god surrounding her. A crown of thorns, made of her precious metal, lay at her brow. The tattered remnants of her dress served to illuminate her delusions of grandeur.

"Bow to me, and I will spare you," Vali crooned sweetly in her multi-tonal voice. "For I am a gracious god."

"Fucking hell," Dante grunted, shouldering Alastor. He could see Lucia and Trish readying themselves as well. Somehow the dhampire was at Lucia's side. Huh, he wouldn't have pegged her for a mercenary.

"Do I look like your doormat?" Trish demanded crossly.

"So you won't submit?" Vali asked softly, jagged teeth showing as her lips pulled back into a ferocious grin. It was the kind of smile that put small children in therapy for years. Lucia and Rayne exchanged glances. Slowly Rayne began to smirk, both her arm blades springing forward. Keeping the weight off her injured leg, Lucia followed suit.

"You crave the coldness of death so dearly?" Vali insisted. "You fools."

"Shut the hell up and get down to it," Dante retorted flatly.

"Such foolish creatures to give up your lives so willingly," Vali crooned as she unmasked her substantial aura.

"Man didn't you hear him when he told you to shut up?" Lauren asked as she came to a halt at Trish's side. The blade of her scythe fell to the ground, the other hand remained on the weapon's staff.

"Is the little fragment back for more?" Vali asked.

"This has gone on long enough," Vergil growled. "Don't bother to beg for mercy."

"Pulling another last minute miracle on me?" Dante asked his twin. Vergil didn't bother responding as he stepped up beside Dante.

"Very well," Vali drew herself up, the aura of a thousand dirtied souls pooling into her hands. "Let us begin again in earnest."


	128. The Detective

**Lor**

She shifted in her seat, the hard metal squeaking beneath her. The handcuffs strained as she ground out the cigarette nub. With a faint sigh she reached for the white carton, shaking the apparently empty box before tossing it aside and continuing her story.

"The last battle was no different than any other fight I had been over in the last year. Again it was Vergil and I. Again it was Dante and Trish. It was Rayne and Lucia and Pandora all over again. It was losing more people I held near and dear. It was Vergil, cutting and slicing, as cold as the winter wind howling through the shattered remains of New Light. And it was Dante either hacking apart or blowing 6 inch holes in anything stupid enough to get between him and Vali. It was Trish, a ferocious lioness, always ready to act and react, always ready for the hunt and the prowl. It was dhampire Rayne in her leather stilettos, smirking as she dodged death, on hairline fraction at a time. It was Lucia doing her best impression of big bird.

'It was getting my ass kicked and dust, mud and blood caked under my fingernails. It was the spray of internal organs so thick on the air it was the only thing you could smell, save for when the cold wind picked up and the cold, numb feeling of your skin would chill just a little bit more, killing the slightest hope that the end of the battle ever draw near.

'Dante and Vergil were the first to charge. They weren't alone. We acted as one, hacking and cutting and slashing and gutting. After several minutes so much demon and seraphim blood drenched the ground that it was saturated with it. They we were past her living shield of minions, so close to her that any wrong step and you would cut the person next to you. Cut after cut, and Vali began to lose her limbs, but that wasn't enough. Slowly, we really saw her true nature. That's when I understood for the first time-and I mean truly understood-what happened when the accord broke. Maybe I finally realized then, what we were really up against. What it really meant to kill a god." A long line of smoke flared out from her nostrils, curling in smudged twisted columns under the overhead light. The metal of her piercings glinted dully as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Learning forward she rested on her elbows.

"Vali was an empty shell. There wasn't any organs or blood or ever even bones after a while. We would cut her skin , but she wouldn't die." Yellow eyes rose to meet the detective's. "When Vali absorbed Gabrielle's soul she gave up everything else for it. You see, my blood never had the power to break the accord on its own. My blood-Loki's blood-could only serve as a catalyst. Vali had to-as she must've known-offer up something of herself to resurrect Gabrielle's twisted consciousness and powers, which she did when she willingly murdered her late lover, Yanos. I don't know the tech to it all," Lor commented when she saw the detective's mouth drop open. "Some alchemists I've met since then mentioned something about equivalent exchange." Picking up the empty cigarette carton once again, Star silently contemplated it for a moment. Her hands looked strangely empty with out a cig clenched in between her fingers.

"And?" Brant prodded her. Lor glanced up at him, slightly surprised, as if she had momentarily forgotten his existence. "Finish it," Brant sighed, pen hovering over the half used legal pad. "What happened next?"

"Next?" Star asked. She glanced down at the cigarette box in her hands. Crushing it, she leaned back once again. "Well…when you peel away so many layers, you get to the core however rotted it may be…"

We cut her so far to the quick that when Vali lost a limb, two more grew to replace it, but even then she couldn't heal fast enough to keep up with the damage we were inflicting on her. I could finally use Maelstrom, which meant I could keep up, if barely. But what we were doing to Vali. It was ugly. The hellish thing that stood in front of me no longer deserved her name. Slimed oozed out of her wound like puss. Even from a distance I could smelll the dark brackish liquid that substituted for her blood. Just looking at her made me feel like puking.

Vali stood-though honestly, I don't know how-surrounded by us. The flesh of her face was so deteriorated it was cracked like a shattered mirror. Green light, somewhat visible under all the disgusting blood like substance, shimmered in the gaping hole just below her cheek bone. Even half dead, Vali stood proud, violet eyes blazing. She was dead set on destroying us. Her pig pride held her chin high and I knew someone like her could never feel regret or sympathy. It was that same pride that had murdered Aaron and Marcus that somehow justified her actions. As cold, arrogant and self centered as Vergil was, she was worse than he was-and she was so much more pathetic for it.

Sneering, gathering her power for a final time, making the ocean below crush against the shore, Vali spoke. The metallic chips of her skin flaked off piece by piece as she laughed. "If I cannot win, neither will you pathetic impurities." Though she spoke to all of us, she glared solely at Vergil. Mr. Personality. It would figure.

Rising in air, Vali devil triggered her hair stiffening into long spikes. I have no idea how she did it. I didn't think a full blooded could devil trigger, but I suppose devils are only secondary to god. The green light of Gabrielle's soul seeped through her skin as she prepared for her final attack, all six of her arms splayed out like spider legs. It was a kamikaze move that would leave her power completely drained. If she was successful, we would die, and Vali would have it all. No way. No way in hell. The little fucking priss wouldn't-_couldn't_-get it all, not when it screwed over people so many other people. The wind rose, screaming and moaning with the voices of the dead, shrieking around us as the energy balls grew larger and larger, now spanning as big as basket balls. All those souls who had escaped through the hole in the fabric of life and death, those ghastly haunts of serial killers and the benevolent spirits of nuns, were running away from their fate, away from death and away from Loki. What had Vali wanted in death? Fuck, at this point it didn't even matter. I wasn't going to back down. Neither did Dante or Trish, Lucia or Rayne. Especially not Vergil. And I wasn't going fucking anywhere. Hell. I have no where else to go. We were in it until the end. Green balls of aura gathered about Vali, scrollings etched into her skin the metal-like shavings falling to the sea.

"You will all die," Vali promised us, the tattered remains of her dress whipped in the wind. "Every last one of your kind."

**Loki**

The goddess sat in the center of the small dark chamber, soft illuminecent light wavered before them along the smooth surface of an obsidian tablet. With her legs curled in a full lotus, Loki gently bowed her head closing her eyes. Her soft whispers filled the small room, nearly inaudible as she murmured them under her breath. Eva quietly backed away from the goddess, leaning against the far wall near the steps.

"What is she doing?" Eva whispered.

"No idea," Sparda replied quietly, not bothering to look at the goddess.

"What the are those lights?"

"It goes without saying that they are important," Sparda replied patiently. "But I know as much as you in this matter, you won't find any answers here, wife of mine."

"Hmph," Eva sighed, sinking to the ground. "Its going to be a long wait, isn't it?"

"Mmmphmmm." Sparda replied.

**Lor**

"The power of her aura was crushing the ground, pushing the beaten over dirt and snow into small circular indents. The edge of the cliff was breaking, large chunks of rock falling into the cold foamy, wild surf below. The wind howled, lightning crashed and the sky bled. It was raining again, a combination of snow, ice chunks and rain. It was miserable time and memorable time for its misery. It was the moment of reckoning when she unleashed that six pronged attack. It was kinda like the point in the movies when the heroes either die in an ugly sequence of blood, acting as dead martyrs and failed avatars for their cause. Or we would triumph and Vali would be ended. Two sides of a coin with so very different outcomes. It was hell and heaven reaching forward and touching a single place on earth. It was intense enough to kill off what remained of the swarming demons and angels. I doubt anything will ever grow in that place again. Not for a long, long time, anyways." She sighed. "I'm tired Detective. I think I've been patient enough. Remove the handcuffs please." Blinking Brant stared at her.

"What?" he asked confused.

"That's all I had to tell you," Star clarified. She wriggled her wrist, the metallic clanking of the handcuffs loud in the interview room. "Can you get these off of me."

"Now wait a damn minute," Brant said, "You didn't answer a single thing! What happened after that!? How in the hell did that have _anything_ to do with tonight? Miss I warned you-"

"Get these damn cuffs off," Star interrupted flatly, "and I'll answer the rest of your questions."

"Answer them now," Brant insisted, taking the small silver key out of his pocket and placing then on the table. Star watched them intently for a moment before speaking.

"I wanted your attention," she said with a shrug. Jaw clenched, Brant waited. At that, a small grin stretched Star's mouth. "I didn't think I'd be able to get your attention through conventional means and I had to be sure you'd take me seriously." The handcuffs landed on the table, bent and unusable. All six or seven of them. Stretching her arms overhead, Star watched him, waiting.

"What," Brant began before stopping himself. He sat there, in his chair with a cold cup of coffee in front of him, staring that the woman dumbly. If he was honest with himself, he could have said that he wasn't surprised. Not really. Not with that fanatical story still fresh in his mind.

"I've been looking for someone. For a while now actually," Star commented, cracking her neck. "I need a detective who has more time than I do with enough gumption to do a little digging." She smiled wryly. "The only other detective I know currently thinks I'm dead. I want to keep it that way."

"You laid out half the PD to get my attention?" Brant asked flatly, crossing his arms.

"Yes," Star replied calmly, "you should believe me when I say that I've been watching you for a couple of months now. You're very intuitive and you consider angles most others would ignore. That makes you valuable in that in this case I'm asking you to take on requires someone who can look outside the box and still keep their head on strait." Star paused. "I really need your help finding this person. Not to mention the payment would be a better deal than you've got here." Brant sat there, thinking, or trying not to think. Which ever one would work best. Star was patient. She didn't say anything as she waited. After several minutes, Brant stirred.

"So what happened after?" Brant shrugged, waving his arms in small circles.

"After Vali?" Star finished. She was silent, considering his question before forcing a smile in his direction. "I don't remember?" she offered, raising an eyebrow.

"They think you're dead?' Brant guessed.

"I think so," Star nodded.

"Is there anything you could tell me?" Brant asked.

"Honestly, there isn't much to tell. Vali isn't a threat anymore. Niether is Gabrielle. Loki's made sure of that. Somehow, I wound up in the ocean though. I drifted for miles before washing up on shore. It took a while to heal from that. From what I've heard through the grape vine, Vergil's taken over hell as its official ruler now. Dante and Trish are still doing what they do best. I don't know where Rayne is or what she's doing and I couldn't care less about Lucia." Star rose to her feet. "Can I count on you detective?"

"What kind of payment are we talking about?" Brant asked, considering.

"The life saving kind," Star replied with a small grin.

* * *

**Authoress's Note**: I'm not quite sure where exactly to stick this thing, but here works just as well as anywhere else, I suppose. (There was an Easter egg/guest mention in this chappie, did anyone catch it?) Sooooooo….that's all she wrote folks! It's been a wild trip for nearly two years now. (Oh holy fuck, did I just really write that?) I want to thank everyone who's been there with me from the start giving me feed back and whatnot-You guys all rock more than words can express!-and for staying with me until the end. (Because that's what this is.) It's been one hell of ride, right? And with those words, thus ends my first fan fic ever!

**THE END**

(Or is it?)


	129. Author's Note

Okay, so I know this story is finished…technically…but I was struck by an idiot stick and since I would never be able to get a hold of all of you by PM/email/gmail/ pigeon note/ message in a bottle/ telegram (take your pick) I'm adding this extra special author's note. (yay me for being a dumbass and lacking the foresight to put this up here with the last chappie…)

Right, getting to the point...obviously, the ending of LNG isn't quite an ending very many people are happy with…so…**If there is to be a sequel, I want feedback from you, the reader**. (Insert image of uncle sam poster) My main question is this: what would you want out of a sequel?? (Other than closure.) What would you want to read about?? Because even though I have a fairly good idea of what the sequel should have, I want to know what your ideas for a sequel are! Believe me, if your idea is utilized in any way, you get total props for your contribution. (That's kinda like a copyrighting 'duh' right?) So, I want to know your opinions! Respond to this however you want, or if you prefer, _don't_ respond to this. **Any** feedback is extreamly appreciated, this invitation extends to the negative-I'll-kill-your-mary-sue readers as well! (When I say I'll take anything I mean ANYTHING.)

So there we go! Hopefully I'll be hearing from some of you!! Until then, take care!

ScarQueen


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